


Watch the world burn

by Skrigget



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Fluff, Graphic Description, Humor, Hurt!Stiles, It's not all bad, Kidnapping, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Multi, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Pain, Panic Attacks, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Sexual Content, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers, We'll get to the happy part later, another pack of werewolves, happy times eventually trust me, somewhere after 3b, the pack is kidnapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-11 15:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 58,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2072910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skrigget/pseuds/Skrigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When we were sure you were going to survive,” Derek explains, “we had to tell him what had happened.”</p><p>“What had happened,” Stiles repeats in a strange, hallow tone of voice as he stares out of the window.</p><p>“Stiles,” Lydia says and steps closer. “You’re okay now.”</p><p>“You’re lying,” he whispers. </p><p> </p><p>The pack is kidnapped and horrible things take place. When Stiles awakes from his coma he realizes that just because they're not being held captive it doesn't mean all their problems are over. Far from, actually. It seems like being kidnapped was just the beginning. </p><p>Nothing will ever be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: I'm re-uploading this fic. I've been made aware that I have an odd way of quoting and I've decided to change it but since I don't want to re-upload 14 chapters at once I'm doing it as I re-read them. So, this means that this chapter (and the others I've re-uploaded) will look slightly different than the rest of the chapters, I hope that's no too annoying.
> 
> Secondly: I updated the summary because I realized it didn't actually tell anything about what the actual story is about, so (the name is still the same however) 
> 
> Also, this fic is un-betaed and I'm sorry for the spelling mistakes and so. As I re-upload hopefully the mistakes will become fewer. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.

 The werewolf’s tight grip in Stiles’ hair gets even tighter and he yanks Stiles’ head backwards painfully. Stiles feels his nails scrape against his scalp and his hot breath against his neck. He can’t help but swallow hard and he knows he smells of fear and anger.

 

“So,” the man growls, “this is how we’re gonna do it.”

 

He looks from Stiles’ inviting neck to the pack standing against the wall. The wolves all has there fangs and claws out and Stiles wants to snort because what exactly are they going to do? He almost likes Allison, Lydia and Kira’s still postures and wide eyes, prefers it, actually.

 

“For every question I ask you that you either a neglect to answer or b neglect to answer correctly I will,” and the werewolf takes a deep breathes through his nose that’s buried into Stiles shoulder, “fuck your little human senseless until he can’t even scream, you understand me?”

 

Stiles thinks he’s going to be sick. His fingers are clenched into firsts but they are shaking violently. He shuts his eyes close because he doesn’t want to look at the pack and see – see their glowing eyes and pained expressions, their pity and their fear. He can hear them howl loudly, can hear them growl and snarl and that’s enough for now.

 

“Let him go,” Scott tries and Stiles would laugh if his head wasn’t bent back so painfully much as it is.

 

The wolf laughs for him though: “That’s not an option, puppy.”

 

The werewolf moves his fingers up Stiles’ side until he has a firm hand around his neck. Stiles tenses immediately when he can feel the claws against his skin. He wants to swallow the thick lump in his throat but he’s afraid it might cause the werewolf to actually break his neck.

 

“I’ll start easy on you since I know you like the human, I can see it in your eyes.”

 

Suddenly there are hands on his shoulders forcing Stiles’ down on his knees and his head snaps forward a second before the firm grip in his hair returns. This time his head is only yanked far enough back to force him to look at them; his friends, his pack, his _family_.

 

“Good, this one is easy: where is Gerard Argent?”

 

The whole pack seems to freeze expect the twins, Malia and Kira, who look somewhat confused. But no one says anything and Stiles can feel the sweat on his skin. He’s so fucking terrified in that moment and he must look fucking pathetic to the werewolf as well as his own pack but god he can’t find it in him to care.

 

“Where is Gerard Argent?” the man snarls angrily and yanks Stiles’ heads back. The sudden movement takes him by surprise and he can’t help but yelp in pain.

 

“Dead,” Allison says. “He’s dead.”

 

The man loosens his grip in Stiles’ hair and the boy closes his eyes shut again, forces the tears to stay in the corner of his eyes. There is an intense moment of silence before the man sighs theatrically and pushes Stiles down on his stomach.

 

“I told you not to lie to me, little hunter. Do you enjoy seeing you friend hurt?” he asks as he places on food on Stiles’ back. It’s light, just enough to keep him in place, but Stiles knows better than to try and fight against it. There are other werewolves just outside the door should he be able to escape this one. Also, trying to squirm his way out might just resolve in a broken spine and he likes not being paralyzed.

 

“I swear,” Allison says but even Stiles’ can hear her heart beating way too fast. He wants to yell at her, scream at her or maybe punch her in the face.

 

“Have it your way,” the werewolf says like he’s bored and grabs Stiles by the shirt to yank him to a standing position. He stumbles to regains his balance, when he feels the hand around his neck return. The pack stills and stares at the man with wide eyes.

 

“Open the door!” the werewolf shouts and the only door in the otherwise bare room is being opened immediately.

 

Five men appear, five werewolves, with glowing blue eyes and fangs. And maybe the pack could take them out but then there’s the thing about a hand around Stiles neck and chains on their feet.

 

“You come with me,” the man snarls into Stiles’ ear and the boy shivers, his knees going weak. “And then we’ll see how your little pack can hold up listening to your screams, shall we?”

 

Stiles wants to scream already, but he can’t even muster a snarky remark. It feels like the air has been forced out of his lunges, likes his heart is about to explode, like he’ll drop dead any minute from the sheer exhaustion that comes with not going into a full blown panic attack right there and then.

 

“Wait!” Lydia shouts suddenly. “Wait, we’ll tell you the truth, just don’t – don’t hurt him, please.”

 

“Who is Gerard?” Malia asks but everyone ignores her and Scott answers the original questions:

 

“He’s in a home, for elderlies, a few towns away.”

 

“I need specific details,” the man growls.

 

Scott doesn’t say anything right away and the hold on Stiles’ neck gets tighter. He gasps for air and sees little white dots in front of his eyes.

 

“The home is called Ballmer and his room is number 3 on the second floor,” Scott tells him then and Stiles is so fucking grateful he could turn into a bawling mess.

 

“Good, now that wasn’t so hard, was it? See they got the general idea,” and then he kisses Stiles neck and the boy hisses, his jaw tightening and his fingernails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. “Next questions, and this time no lies in between, okay? Now, where is Cora Hale?”

 

Stiles opens his eyes abruptly and finds Derek standing between Ethan and Malia. His eyes go wide and his fangs sinks into his lower lip. It has to hurt but he doesn’t seem to register it at all. He looks at the werewolf in front of him and then at Stiles and the human can see the obvious pain and distress in his eyes. There are almost tears in big, glowing, blue eyes. Stiles wants to cry too but he can’t even breathe properly.

 

“Answer, answer,” the man sighs irritated and gives Stiles another kiss. Stiles hears Scott and the twins growl at the sight but they are as frozen as ever.

 

“I can’t,” Derek tells him through gritted teeth. “I can’t give you Cora.”

 

Stiles can’t honestly tell if he himself is relieved or terrified. Both, he thinks, because he likes Cora and he wants her to be safe, thinks she deserves that much after all she’s been through, but he also, god he’s also so fucking frightening it chokes him.

 

“Okay,” the man says like it’s perfectly understandable. “But then you know what we’ll have to do.”

 

He looks to the werewolves at the door opening and gives them a quick nod. The next thing Stiles registers is being thrown into another tight grip, this one forces his arms behind his back and he feel vulnerably.

 

“Wait!” Scott shouts. “Wait, we’ll tell you something else. What do you want to know – we can – “

 

“That’s not how we do it,” the werewolf leader says and inhales sharply. “Take him away.”

 

“ _No_!” Malia shouts.

 

“Ah, don’t worry puppies, you’ll get to hear his screams just fine.”

 

Stiles doesn’t look at them, he can’t. He can’t even breathe. He wants to throw up, he wants to cry and beg and plead for them not to touch him but not a single sound other than a weak whimper escapes his dry lips. He doesn’t know what’s going on on the other side when the door closes but he can hear what sounds like a fight and a loud howl. Then everything is oddly silent on the other side and Stiles realizes that they really will be able to hear, the walls are painfully thin, it makes him wonder if they’ve done this before.

 

He shudders and then he’s dropped onto the floor like a bag of flour. He gasps in pain and surprise but he doesn’t have time to register what happened before rough hands forces his shirts off, or rather rips it to pieces. He inhales sharply and can’t help it when a panicked sob comes from his throat.

 

There are hands forcing him around so he’s on his bare stomach, there are hands pulling his pants down and there are voices talking to him and laughing and he shuts his eyes closed and begs:

 

“Please, don’t – “ he cries when they pull his boxers down as well. He tries to fight back, tries to escape, but it’s a lost cause he knows. He feels claws connect with his back and he hisses out in pain and bites down on his lip not to scream.

 

“You look good like this,” one of the werewolves says and the others laugh. #Are you a virgin? I bet you are, well, then I can promise you this will hurt.”

 

Stiles sobs and squirms under the strong hands. He feels the hands move to his neck and suddenly his face is being pressed into the cold floor beneath him. He grits his teeth and feels the endless flow of tears stream down his already wet cheeks.

 

“Please don’t,” he cries. “Please, _please_ – “

 

His begging turns into a loud, piercing scream when the man pushes inside him without warning or preparation. Stiles cries harder, tries to get away, doesn’t care what it’ll do to him, doesn’t care that they’ll kill him, he just has – he has to _get away_.

 

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it,” the man inside him asks as he draws back a little earning another earnest sob from the boy. Stiles’ body is shivering, his inside hurts, his nails scrape against the floor beneath him as he tries to get away, but all that gets him is more blood.

 

When the man pushes inside again Stiles screams, so fucking loud it probably hurts the werewolves. He doesn’t care in the slightest. All he cares about is the pain surging through his body, setting it on fire. All he cares about is how bad he wants to die right in that moment if it means the pain will go away. He screams are raw and it feels like his throat is hurting but the man keep thrusting into him, keeps pounding deep and merciless and Stiles keeps screaming until the man comes inside him.

 

He pulls out and Stiles whimpers, shuts his eyes and sobs uncontrollably. He doesn’t get a seconds rest before the hands are back, forcing him around so he’s on his back. He’s staring into a pair of glowing eyes that keeps shifting from blue to bright yellow. He swallows hard and it hurts his throat but everything hurts by now so what does it matter?

 

“Oh, silly me,” the man snarls and leans down. “Did I forget all about you? Let me take care of that.”

 

“Get off of me,” Stiles says, but his voice is barely above a whisper and the man just snickers and grabs a hold of Stiles dick. He grits his teeth again and clenches his jaw tight. “Stop,” he begs. ,,Please, don’t – “

 

“Now, now, I’m only doing this to help you,” the man says and starts pulling at Stiles dick painfully.

 

“Don’t,” he begs. “Please, get off of me – “

 

He whimpers when the man starts pulling faster and harder. There is no pleasure, there is only pain, so much fucking pain, but it doesn’t stop his body from reacting. He cries into his arm and the men laughs hard and loud and when Stiles comes he wants to scream again but he doesn’t.

 

“Good boy,” the man praises and then Stiles feels a hand against his face and something wet on his lips. “Lick,” the man instructs and Stiles doesn’t even try to fight at this point just takes the fingers into his mouth and tastes himself and his cum.

 

The door is pushed open but Stiles doesn’t look to see if he can catch a glimpse of the pack. He’d prefer never to face them again.

 

“Are you done?” Stiles hears the leader’s familiar voice ask.

 

“Oh, yes we are, you can have him back.”

 

“Put some pants on him,” the leader – the alpha – instructs and seconds later rough hands are forcing his pants back on his sore and burning body. He whimpers when hands grab his shoulders and force him to stand.

 

He stackers forward a bit, almost stumbles but manages not to, when he’s pushed into the leader’s firm hands again. This time he only puts one fist on Stiles shoulder and guides him back into the room.

 

Every step Stiles takes sends a burning fire through his body and it takes all his non-existing willpower not to just give up and collapse on the floor. When they stop in the middle of the room he sways uncertainly on his feet and only the hand on his shoulder and the claws digging into his skin keeps him from falling.

 

“Now, let’s try it again: where is Cora Hale?”

 

Stiles actually opens his eyes and looks at them: at Isaac who’s not breathing, at Allison who has tears streaming down her face, at Lydia who looks like she’s about to pass out, at the twins and Malia who has their fangs out but with uncertain eyes, at Scott who’s definitely been crying and who can’t even look at him, at Kira who can’t look away, and at Derek with tense shoulders and his gaze on the floor. Stiles wants to protest, wants to tell him ‘no, no, no’ but he isn’t sure for what. For not telling them the truth about Cora’s location? For maybe thinking about telling them? He can’t tell for sure at this point.

 

“This will be a long night,” the man mumbles tiredly and Stiles shivers but in no other way reacts to the words. “Did you not hear the screams? Did you understand what we were doing to him?”

 

“Please let him go,” Scott begs weakly. “Please – “

 

“But you see, that’s not how the game works, is it? Answer the question, the human is safe. Refuse to answer and the human has to pay.”

 

“Please – “ Scott says nevertheless and suddenly a hand connects with Stiles cheeks and sends him down on the cold floor. He scrambles to his knees when the hand pulls him back up.

 

“Say anything else and I’ll start beating him bloody, you get me?”

 

Stiles almost wants them to continue, thinks that being beaten bloody might sound as a better solution than this. Scott whimpers and sounds like a dog getting hit but otherwise stays quiet. Stiles swallows and closes his eyes again, he can’t stand to meet his alpha’s or anyone’s eyes. He can’t stand to see his pain reflected in their gazes, it’ll only make him hurt so much worse than he already is.

 

“Good, now I’m going to ask you one more time: Where is Cora Hale?”

 

“What do you want with her?” Lydia asks and even though she tries to sound strong and fierce she is on the verge of breaking into panicked sobs, Stiles can hear it so clearly it’s frightening, he thinks.

 

“Ah, that’s none of your business, now it is _banshee_ ,” the man answers. “Will it help if I tell you I won’t hurt her?”

 

Derek growls low in his throat as an answer and their resistance makes Stiles smile a little, like it gives him just a glimmer of strength back to his arching bones. The man snarls angrily and pushes Stiles down on his knees again.

 

“I don’t think you understand the seriousness of this,” he says as he moves forward. He places his foot on Stiles’ back and forces him down on his stomach. The wind is forced out of him and he gasps for air. The twins and Derek growls again and Scott howls in frustration, anger and pain for his pack member and best friend.

 

“See, you are all very concerned about him, but that doesn’t change a thing, now does it? Okay, since you won’t tell me anything, let’s see how well you take to the screams this time.”

 

He grabs Stiles’ shoulder and picks him up like it’s nothing. He tosses him into the arms of the others and he can’t help but sob. He tries to struggle in the arms, tries to show his friends that he’s not giving up without a fight but a set of claws digs into his neck and he can’t help but scream.

 

“Stiles!” he hears Scott shout.

 

“Let him go!” Derek warns and roars like an animal.

 

“No can do,” the leader says and he sounds amused. The tone of his voice makes Stiles sick to his stomach and he grits his teeth again, tries to prepare himself for what comes next; he can’t. The door is closed and suddenly he’s pressed against it, his face being held painfully hard against the surface of it. He tries to breathe but it gets harder and harder with every passing second.

 

“They’re right on the other side,” a werewolf says and it isn’t the same one as last time Stiles registers.

 

“They can hear you,” another one continues. “Even the humans.”

 

“Fuck you,” Stiles spits and struggle against the hands on his waist and shoulder.

 

Someone laughs and it sends cold shivers down Stiles’ spine. And the next thing he knows his pants are forced down again and he whimpers in pain and fear. He can feel a hard cock at his entrance and his bites down on his lower lip till he can taste the blood in his mouth.

 

“They’ll all know what a little slut you are,” someone murmurs into his ear. Stiles breathing staggers unevenly and his palms are sweaty and he keeps losing his footing. His body is already so weak and bruised. “They’ll know just how much dick you had in your filthy little ass – “

 

The man’s voice is cut off by a numerous of loud howls from the other side of the door. For a second everyone stills and listens. The sound echoes afterwards, from wall to wall, like a promise to Stiles that everything will be alright. And even when he doesn’t believe it, it still helps. He smiles despite his better judgment and says loudly: “I’m okay.”

 

He’s not though because seconds later there are hands around his neck, tightening until he gasp for air and can’t see anything but darkness. He’s aware that someone pushes inside him and he would scream if he had any air in his lungs but he doesn’t. He can whimper and scratch his nails down the door and listen to the devastated louds howls.

 

When he thinks he’s going to pass out the firm fingers around his throat finally disappear and he coughs and gasps for air, his knees so weak he can’t help but fall. He doesn’t make it far thought before he’s being held up again. It’s another man he can tell vaguely. He holds onto only his waist, but that’s also enough because his grip is strong and his claws digs into Stiles’ hips until it breaks skin and he hisses in pain and his eyes water.

 

This time he has enough consciousness to feel when the man comes inside his ass; it fills him up and makes him open his mouth to scream again but he finds that he can’t because a fist is being showed into his mouth. Three long fingers are being forced down his throat and he gags and grabs at the arm to fight against it. His eyes roll back in his head because of the pain and dizziness as someone else grabs his dick and start twisting and stroking. He keeps gagging on the fingers and keeps struggling against the hands on his body but as soon as the man behind him takes a step away and he can finally breathe, there is just someone else behind him.

 

Stiles comes but it just as unpleasant as before. He sobs and bites his teeth together so hard he knows it should hurt but it honesty doesn’t. He can’t feel it over everything else happening to his body. There’s someone inside him he registers, someone who pounds into him hard enough to make him whimper and scream again. He can’t hold his balance and he falls, head hitting the door. When someone links an arm around him and he falls back against a chest he can feel blood falling into his eyes.

 

He wants to pass out so badly, wants it all to be over with. And luckily for him, once the one inside him is done he drops the boy, who falls to the ground, bruising his already broken body further. Someone grabs his arms and he wants to protest, wants to scream at them to get their hands off him, but his throat is soar and dry. They don’t try to push his pants on him this time and he’s actually really grateful. He feels bruised all over, like his body is turning into burning, destructive flames.

 

Firm hands hold him as he’s pushed into the room. His bite his teeth together but can’t help but hiss through them as he being forced forward.

 

“Stiles!” he hears Lydia shout. “Please, let him go!”

 

“Stiles? _Stiles_!”

 

The hands let go of him so suddenly and he drops to his knees and can’t help but wince. He can hear this crimson terrible laughter from the leader when he sits down next to Stiles.

 

“It’s okay,” he tells the boy. “You can pass out if you want to. It won’t make much of a difference.”

 

Stiles can’t help it when his arms get too weak to hold him up and he crashes to the floor. His breathing is slow but steady and even though he feels bruised and broken, feels like everything inside of him is burning away, he’s still conscious and aware of his pack looking at him.

 

He can feel fingers in his hair, brushing against his scalp way, way too gentle. It makes him shiver and sick and he wants to throw up but he knows he won’t be able to. He swallows hard and struggles a little to get away from the leader who chuckles darkly and takes a firm hold in his hair as he yanks his head back. He gasps as his head hits the floor and his vision turns blurry for a second or two. The fingers are less gentle when they stroke him this time.

 

“So, you’re obviously not going to tell me where Cora Hale is, but what about Peter Hale?”

 

#Peter Hale is dead,” Derek growls out through his fangs.

 

“Ah, so I heard. But I also heard that your little banshee resurrected him. Good job.”

 

“We know nothing about that – “

 

“Stop lying to me, Derek!” the leader says and stilts his hand in Stiles’ hair. “Or do you want me to hurt the human so badly?”

 

“Please!” Lydia chokes out. “ _Please_ , no more, he can’t take it – “

 

“Exactly!” the leader practically shouts followed by a deep sigh. “And yet you still refuse to answer my questions. Why is that I wonder?”

 

“We’re telling you everything we know!” Aiden yells and Ethan follows up with a loud, promising howl. It only makes the leader laugh louder.

 

“Lies, lies, lies,” the leader sighs. “Where is Peter Hale?”

 

“We don’t know,” Isaac tries but his voice is weak. Even Stiles can tell the lie in it.

 

“No, no, no. Where is Peter – “

 

“He is dead!” Derek shouts.

 

Stiles can feel the tears in his eyes, he can’t help it at this point. He’s just so _goddamn tired_ and –

 

“He’s in Beacon Hills!” Allison shouts and cuts off the rest of the pack. Stiles opens his eyes and looks at her. Her eyes flicker between his and the leader’s. She is breathing heavily and her eyes are wide with sorrow but Stiles knows it has nothing to do with Peter and everything to do with Stiles.

 

“See,” the leader says and starts gently tugging at Stiles hair again. “Thank you, miss Allison.”

 

Everything is still and tense for a second and Stiles closes his eyes again. He won’t look at them, refuses to meet their gazes and burning eyes.

 

“Next question. And I’ll make this one easy for you because I actually like you, you got fire. Answer all the questions and I promise I won’t touch this human ever again. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he says and smiles, Stiles can practically hear it. Somewhere between he stops talking and he starts again Stiles’ heart stops beating for a painfully long while: “Where are Jackson Whitmore, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd?”

 

Stiles’ heart presumes its doing with an unknown intensity and Stiles is certain it’s going to burst.

 

No one says a word, but Stiles can hear Lydia whimper and Scott bare his fangs and growl low in his throat. It’s an empty threat at this point. Stiles wants to pass out so badly, wants to just give up and hope for a darkness to overpower his senses at this point.

 

“Ah,” the leader says and moves his hand down Stiles’ face. He rests his hand on Stiles cheek and the boy stiffens under the touch, hands clenched in front of him and his shoulders unmoving. “I had a feeling this would happen. None of them are part of your pack anymore, I know that much, and I’m also fairly certain that the beta Vernon Boyd is dead by the hands of Derek Hale, but they are still werewolves and they are still _yours_. You can’t go against them, can you? Not even know.” Still an intense silence. “Well, I guess you just have to unless you want to watch this little boy,” he snickers, “to turn into dust.”

 

The twins roars, Malia howls, Scott throws himself forward but is stopped by Derek’s hand. And yet none of them speaks a word. Not even Kira.

 

Stiles feel the finger disappear from his hair but it doesn’t make him relaxed at all, just the opposite actually. He scrambles to his knees and slowly and on shaking arms and legs pushes himself to a standing position. He only makes it one step towards his pack before something connects with his leg and he screams and falls to the floor.

 

“Stiles!”

 

“STILES!”

 

“Stop it!”

 

“PLEASE!”

 

“ _STOP_!”

 

“Stiles, oh god, Stiles! _Stiles_!”

 

Stiles doesn’t move and he’s fairly certain his leg is broken if not his entire knee shattered. He makes these weak noises, like a whimper, but other than that he’s completely still.

 

“Tell me where they are,” the leader warns as he sits down behind the shaking, shivering human. And still no one spits a word and Stiles can’t help but let out a broken, lonely sob that works its way through his body like a cutting knife.

 

“Okay, I have a new idea,” the man says and lift Stiles head in his lap. Stiles wants to struggle but his better judgment tells him not to. And besides; the man doesn’t do anything but let Stiles’ head rest in his lap. “Look at the pack,” he says into Stiles ear and the boy follows orders weakly, looking at his friends. “Chose someone. Anyone. Besides McCall.”

 

“W-what?” Stiles croaks out and his voice is hoarse from screaming.

 

“Chose someone,” the leader says again. “Chose anyone you want to take your place.”

 

A shiver goes through the pack as they freezes and stares at the man with shocked expressions.

 

“What about the twins, you hardly know them, right? And as far as I’ve gathered they caused you some problems a few months back. One of them perhaps? Or what about Lydia? Or what about Isaac? Or Derek? Malia, is that your name? What about her? Maybe even Allison? Anyone but Scott.”

 

“Because he’s an alpha,” Stiles whispers and doesn’t look at anyone.

 

“Because he’s a _true_ alpha.” The leader inhales like he’s bored and wants to get this over with. “Come on,” he says. “Chose anyone, since it doesn’t seem to do much good with you. Maybe they don’t love you the way you thought and why would they? You’re only human, what are you in a pack of werewolves?”

 

“Shut your mouth,” Scott warns and flashes his eyes a terrifying red color. “He’s my best friend – “

 

“Ah, but is he pack?”

 

“Yes!” Scott shouts. “He is.”

 

“Do you believe them?” the leader asks in a gentler tone. “Do you, Stiles?”

 

“Shut up,” Stiles begs “Please.”

 

“Then choose someone!”

 

“Me.”

 

The man actually goes silent after this as well as the rest of the pack. “What did you say?”

 

“Me, I choose me.”

 

The man laughs but for the first time it is a mixture between sincerity and surprise, like the man is generally enjoying this, enjoying Stiles playing martyr for his pack. “Okay, have it you way, boy.”

 

,,No, NO!” Scott shouts. ,,Please just _wait_ a second – “

 

“Tell me where they are and I’ll wait for the rest of my life,” the leader says amused and nods towards the door. Stiles’ breathing goes rapid and he clenches and unclenches his fists, vaguely looking at the men approaching him again.

 

“Changed your mind?” The leader asks.

 

“No,” Stiles grits out immediately.

 

“Okay,” the man says. “Take him away. Do it properly this time, as well.”

 

Stiles doesn’t know what that meant, doesn’t think he wants to know. If what they did last wasn’t proper he knows for sure he is going to finally pass out this time. He is walking towards the dangerous edge of darkness and he isn’t sure what was on the other side anymore. It should terrify him more than it does.

 

“Stop!” Lydia screams. “STOP!”

 

“No can’t do,” the leader says when they pull Stiles to his feet again and he stumbles towards the door, guided by claws in his shoulder and growling threats in his ears. He keeps swallowing hard but no matter what his throat is still burning and dry.

 

“Let the door stay open,” Stiles hears the leader command and he goes limp and practically falls to the floor. He wants to scream now, wants to beg and plead harder than ever because, wants to fall to his knees, broken or not, and promise the man whatever they want as long as the door isn’t open, _that_ he can’t handle. He can’t handle them watching him. But he can’t get a single word or prayer over his swollen lips.

 

He can hear the pack’s chains rattle, he can hear someone crying than isn’t himself, he can hear them howl out in pain for him, but none of that matters when someone pushes him down on his back and lift his leg up in the air. He can hear laughter and heavy panting, can hear people talking together and can hear the howls grow louder but he shuts his eyes close. If he opens them and looks over his captures’ shoulder he’ll see them – his friends – and if he looks at them now he’ll never see anything else for the rest of his life but the pity in their eyes; granted he makes it out of this alive and suddenly he isn’t so sure.

 

He doesn’t scream when the dick is forced into his entrance. Not this time. It doesn’t hurt at much this time either, but it still stings and burns and makes his body arch up in pain. He gaps for air, tries to focus on his own breathing, as the man inside of him thrusts hard and fast into him, one hand on his right leg and the other one of his hip.

 

He bites down on his cheek and keeps his eyes shut and has just made the conclusion that he might just make it after all when something beyond terrifying happens: the dick inside him swells up. Stiles opens his eyes wide and gasps, can’t help but choke out a sob or two.

 

“Stiles!” someone screams but he can hardly hear it over the loud banging in his ears.

 

“W-what – “ he chokes out before he makes a pitched scream and sobs again. The dick keeps getting bigger and bigger and Stiles has the terribly realization that the monster is knotting him. He didn’t think he had any screams left in him but he’s wrong; he screams louder than before. He can’t adjust to this, he can’t move. He’ll never make it out of this, he thinks. And then the man comes inside of him, hard and painfully and he keeps coming; it fills Stiles’ up until he thinks he’s going to burst and the boy’s screams turns into this high pitched whimper as he scrapes his bleeding nails against the cold floor.

 

“My turn,” someone growls and Stiles actually manages to struggle a couple of inches away.

 

“No,” he says when someone turns him around so he’s on his stomach. “P-please don’t – “

 

The man howls when he pushes inside and Stiles cries out and hides his face and his tears in his arm. He whimpers and sobs as the man’s thrust turns faster and more persistent. When he feels the knotting he wants to die. He screams again and this time he tries to drag himself away. He struggles worse than he ever has; blood and adrenaline is rushing through his body as he kicks out with his good leg and tries to get away. All that gets him is a hard hit in the back of his head that sends him down on the hard floor again, head hitting it merciless.

 

His vision blurs for a moment but he keeps screaming as the monster comes inside of him as well. He’s going to burst, the pain is endless. He wants to let the darkness that’s lurking just around the edges of his vision take him in completely, wants to give in so badly.

 

Two things happens almost at once then: a new man positions himself behind Stiles and the boy can’t even protest anymore, and he hears the rattling of chains go louder and louder until –

 

He hears them break and he lets that be all there is for a second before a set of claws drags down his back and he chokes out, can taste an unhealthy amount of blood in his mouth. He pushes away from the grip, but is yanked back hard and lands on his already ruined back and chokes on the blood suffocating him. His vision is only dark dots and something white and endless in the middle. He can’t see the fighting around him, can only hear the howls and the roars and the occasional screams of pain. He chokes again, his entire body trembling.

 

When he hears a gunshot followed by another he is so fucking grateful he can’t help it anymore; he closes his eyes yet again but decides that this time it can take him if it wants.

 

The next minute there are hands on his body but this time they are truly gently and he’s being lifted into someone arms. He wants to look so he does but all he sees it Scott’s eyes looking down at him with so many emotions that Stiles chokes again, his body convulsing with the movement.

 

“Stiles,” Scott begs, his voice full of tears. “You have to keep your eyes open.”

 

“It’s okay,” he gets out. He feels the blood fall from his mouth and down onto the floor. It must be a dreadful sight he thinks. “It’s okay, Scott.”

 

“Shhh,” the boy whispers. Someone approaches, Stiles thinks it’s the rest of the pack. “Save the energy.”

 

Vaguely Stiles registers that the fighting is gone. He manages a weak smile before he coughs on the blood and his body arches up like a bow.

 

“Stiles!”

 

“It’s okay,” he repeats and can’t help it when his eyes flutters closed.

 

“No, look at me. Stiles, _look_ at me!”

 

Stiles doesn’t, not for a long time. Then he opens them very slowly and finds Scott’s eyes gain: ,,Promise you won’t tell my dad,” he gets out and Scott’ll understand how he means _don’t tell my dad the entire truth, don’t tell them everything they did_ but the alpha just looks down at him with tears spilling from his eyes.  “Scott. Promise me.”

 

“Stiles, it’s going to be fine, just stay awake.”

 

“Promise – me.”

 

Scott inhales suddenly, his eyes shifting from brown to red and back to brown as the tears fall harder. “Okay,” he finally says and Stiles smiles this time. He reaches out and grabs Scott’s hand. He breathes slowly, the blood still choking him.

 

“Thank you,” he whispers and doesn’t fight the darkness.

 

“Stiles, look at me!”

 

“Stiles!”

 

But he can’t, doesn’t even try.

 

Their voices are so far away, he can’t possibly be expected to listen to them. He wants to sleep, wants to let the darkness take care of him.

 

And so he does.


	2. Chapter 2

Someone far away is saying his name. He gets the feeling it’s important, that the voice is urgent, but he can’t hear what it’s saying besides his name. He wants to react, he really does, but he can’t. All he can do is listen as the voice gets further and further away.

 

Later, he thinks it’s later anyway, there’s more than just one voice. There seems to be hundreds of them and they are all saying his name in several different tones. The voices sound worried, he thinks, and for some reason that makes him sad. He knows that whatever is happening it’s unpleasant and so he drift away again.

 

The third time he hears his name being mentioned there is panic; thick, pulsing panic all around him and inside him. He thinks he’s choking but he’s also aware that he’s not, in fact he’s lying very, painfully still, and that is odd to be aware of. He hears his name again, he thinks it’s a girl saying it. He can’t make out the rest of the sentence or what anyone’s respond is but there are tears, he thinks, someone is crying. He doesn’t know if he wants to wake up, but since he can’t, it doesn’t seem to matter in the end.

 

There is a gentle hand on his own. Someone is stroking their thumb over his hand, intertwining fingers with his and humming absently. It’s calming and he thinks he starts to breathe slower and more relaxed than before. He wants to say something, he really does, but all he can get out is a grunt. The hand stills immediately and he wants to ask whoever it is to continue but again all he can manage is this weak sound forming in the back of a throat. He thinks it can only be categorized as a groan. Then someone is shouting and his ears are ringing and the hand is gone and he wants to cry but he slips away.

 

“Do you think he’s going to wake up?”

 

“Yeah, I really do.”

 

“You’re always so damn optimistic, Scott.”

 

“I have to be.”

 

“Does it come with being an alpha?”

 

“Maybe, I don’t know. The twins don’t seem very optimistic, do they? Come on, let’s go home, Isaac.”

 

There is a sound like someone snoring and it’s oddly comforting to listen to. Like it assures him that somewhere next to him, someone else that he cares about, is in peace, hopefully. He listens to the sound and it gets more and more persistent with each passing second. It takes longer than it should have for him to realize that the snoring isn't the getting louder, but that he’s just waking up gradually. After what feels like a lifetimes he finally pulls through and opens his eyes very slowly.

 

It’s nothing like waking from a dream. It’s like he’s been waking up for days now and it makes him feels tired into his bones. He breathes heavily through his nose as he tries to gather enough strength to turn his head. After a little while longer he does and he finds his father sound asleep with his head resting against the wall behind him and his arms folded in front of him. It doesn’t look very comfortable and he must have a burning pain in his neck at this point but Stiles still smiles at the sight.

 

He wants to reach out and touch him gentle on the arm, brush his fingers through his hair or lean over and press a kiss to his temples like he used to do when he was just a kid. Instead of doing any of those things though he just closes his eyes and falls into a heavy, much needed sleep.

 

The next time he actually properly awakes it’s because someone is talking. And loudly. He thinks about telling them to shut up but thinks better of it and instead opens his eyes and squint them against the bright light. He turns his head and finds Scott and Allison standing in the middle of the room talking. In the doorway is Isaac on his phone, mumbling and closing his eyes tight every few seconds. Stiles doesn’t say anything immediately, just enjoys the sight in front of him with this one clear thought in his head: they’re all alright.

 

Then he yawns and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

And all three of them turn to look at him with their eyes wide and their pupils blown.

 

“Stiles?” Scott stutters and stackers a step towards him. He looks so uncertain, and when he reaches out to his friend his hands is visibly trembling.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles manages to say. His throat is dry like it hasn’t been used for centuries but it’s there and he’s speaking.

 

“Oh god your awake,” the alpha chokes out and practically runs to his friend side. He reaches out to put his hand on his shoulder or something but stops midway like he’s been paralyzed. Something gets caught in Stiles’ throat at the sight and he looks away from his best friend and to Allison who has tears in her eyes.

 

“We missed you,” she says in her usual matter-of-fact tone but Stiles loves that about her.

 

He smiles and nods, eyes blinking slowly like he’s still on the verge of falling sleep again.

 

“You really awake?” Isaac, now situated next to Allison, whispers and looks at the human like he expects him to disappear any minute.

 

Stiles doesn’t really know how to answer or how to deal with what he sees in his friends’ eyes. There is this huge amount of relief that he can’t seem to handle, and he knows it’s meant for him, knows he was the one they were worried about but it still suffocates him.

 

He swallows hard and turns his eyes back to Scott, who’s places himself in the chair where his father was sitting, what Stiles guesses was, last night.

 

“How long was I out?” he asks when no one says anything, just stares at him with expressions he can’t quite seem to put into place.

 

“We’re on your third week,” Allison answers.

“Third?” Stiles repeats and closes his eyes when he feels a throbbing headache. He breathes heavily and deeply, clenches his fists tight and digs his nails into his palms.

 

“Stiles? Are you okay?”

 

He opens his eyes and looks at Scott’s wide, brown eyes and nods.

 

“Yeah,” he answers and rubs a hand over his eyes. “I just – I didn’t think – it’s a long time.”

 

“Yeah,” Isaac breathes. “We were pretty damn worried about you.”

 

“Isaac,” Scott growls and stares at the beta.

 

“What? We were!”

 

“It’s okay, Scotty,” Stiles mumbles, already feeling exhausted again. He wonders vaguely if he’ll ever really regain any strength. And then it’s like he realizes that he’s awake, that he’s breathing, that they all made it out _alive_ and he can feel his eyes stinging with tears.

 

“Stiles?” Allison says worriedly and walks to the other side of the bed.

 

“’m fine,” he mumbles. “Just happy to be alive, I guess.”

 

There is an intense moment of silence and then some unsure laughter from Scott that spreads to Isaac and Allison. Stiles can even feel the smile tug gently at the corner of his own lips.

 

“So are we, believe us,” Scott whispers when he finally places his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. The boy doesn’t tense under the touch, just exhales like he’s been holding his breath and yawns again.

 

“I think I’m gonna fall asleep again now,” he mumbles groggy.

“Okay,” Scott says and runs his hands over his skin. “As long as you wake up again.”

 

Stiles manages to hum in confirmation before he drift into the darkness again.

 

And he does wake up again about three hours later. He wakes up screaming and kicking, wakes up feeling like he’s about to fall into this huge pit of oblivion that will swallow him whole and merciless, wakes up feeling suffocated and weak, tired into every inch of his bones and flesh, wakes up feeling too damn sad and exhausted even though he can’t remember anything other than these dark shadows from his nightmare.

 

“Stiles!” someone shouts and he chokes down the screams, he feels the tears stream down his cheeks. He gasps for breath and jolts to a sitting position, his entire body trembling.

 

“Stiles? Are you okay? Stiles!”

 

“I’m fine,” he says weakly and falls back down on the pillow behind him. He closes his eyes as he tries to regain control over his own breathing. “I’m fine.”

 

There is silence around him but he still has a feeling that he’s surrounded by people. So he opens his eyes and finds several pairs of eyes on him.

 

There is Scott, Isaac and Allison in the far corner, there is Melissa McCall next to his father, who looks like he’s debating between punching someone and fainting, there is Kira and Malia standing shoulder by shoulder closes to the door, there is Lydia with her arms folded, there are the twins moving their weight from one foot to another like they feel out of place and there is Derek Hale, with his furrowed eyebrows and lip-chewing.

 

“Hey,” he says because he feels like he should maybe try and break the tension building in what he guesses is a hospital room.

 

“Hey,” Malia answers immediately followed by a smile from Kira and Lydia. “Scott told us you’d woken up.”

 

“Yeah,” Stiles says and places his hands awkwardly in his lap. He isn’t sure how to respond to the many people surrounding him at this point.

 

“We’re very happy, son,” his father says in a tone that’s not really _right_ , it’s not his usual. Stiles looks at him and smiles like an invitation for his father to step closer which he does. But like Scott he hesitates before he puts a hand on his son. And Stiles freezes and hold his breath for a second.

 

“You told him,” he whispers then and looks away from his father and everyone else.

 

“We had to,” Scott whispers weakly from the corner.

 

“I begged you not to,” Stiles snaps back but his voice isn’t even angry it’s just exhausted and dull.

 

“When we were sure you were going to survive,” Derek explains, “we had to tell him what had happened.”

 

“What had happened,” Stiles repeats in a strange, hallow tone of voice as he stares out of the window.

 

“Stiles,” Lydia says and steps closer. “You’re okay now.”

 

But there’s something about the way she says it, something about the way she hesitates, something about the way her voice gets slightly higher at the end of the sentence and Stiles _wants_ to believe her, wants to believe she’s telling the truth, but he doesn’t.

 

“You’re lying,” he whispers and the whole room stills for what seems like an eternity. Long enough for Stiles to be certain about his comment and long enough for him to realize that everyone else is lying with her. He sighs and closes his eyes tiredly.

 

“N-no, what do you mean – “ she stammers.

 

“We should tell him the truth,” Ethan interrupts abruptly.

 

Stiles smiles but with no humor. He doesn’t open his eyes when he says: “I’ve always liked the twins.”

 

This earns him a snicker or two but the tension is still unbearable and it makes him want to scream again.

 

“Stiles, we’re not going to let anything happen to you,” is what Scott finally says when he can’t take it any longer either. Stiles looks at him for a long moment before he nods and slumps back into his bed. He closes his eyes but he knows he can’t fall sleep again right away.

 

“Okay,” he whispers without looking at them. “You’ll protect me.”

 

“Yes,” Derek says in his low, growling, usual manner. “We will.”

 

“Okay,” Stiles repeats. He wants to keep going, wants to force them to tell them what it is that they’re not telling him, he wants them to stop looking at him like he’s a porcelains doll just waiting to crack. But he knows they neither can’t nor won’t and he can’t even blame them.

 

“Do you want to rest?” Melissa asks.

 

“No,” Stiles answers immediately. “I want you to stay.”

 

“Okay,” she says gently and he can practically hear her exchange looks with his father.

 

“Talk, whisper, do whatever it was you did before I woke up,” he mumbles and focuses on his breathing again. He can’t help but feel trapped with all these silent people just staring at him.

 

“Okay,” Scott says but then nothing happens and the walls start closing in on Stiles and he digs his nails into his palms again.

 

“Please,” he mumbles weakly and furrows his eyebrows to keep his eyes from opening so they’ll see the panic inside of them.

 

He can hear them inhale almost simultaneously and it makes him relax already. It’s not that he’s afraid, not really, but he’s worried about them worrying which is an odd thing, it’s like being scared of the fear itself, but he can’t really do anything about it. So when Isaac asks Allison if she’s finished the chemistry report do Friday his fingers stop trembling.

 

A few seconds later and he can hear vague mumbling from all around him and after some unsure minutes the pack seems to fall into a familiar pattern. Ethan and Aiden are talking about lacrosse with Scott joining in every now and again. Kira and Malia are discussing what to do with their English teacher being a dick-head and when Malia in all seriousness proposes that they kill him Stiles can’t help but flutter out a quick laugh. That seems to ease the tension visibly and he sinks into the bed comfortably.

 

“Son?”

 

He opens his eyes half up and looks at his father out of the corner of his eyes. “Yeah.” It’s not a question because his father wasn’t asking permission for anything, was just making sure that Stiles was actually there, alive and breathing and not getting raped and beaten up by werewolves.

 

The sheriff sits down on the chair next to his bed when Melissa excuses herself. They both sit and listen to the teenagers talk and argue, every now again some of them will throw something at the others and Derek will roll his eyes and bark out an order even if he isn’t the alpha anymore.

 

“Can I?”

 

Stiles turns to his father again and sees his hand just above his own. Stiles nods and feels his father takes his hand in his. He starts breathing slow and steady again, can’t help but relax into the touch. He feels safe like this, can almost forget about Lydia and the lies, can almost forget that Scott broke his promise to him, can almost forget that Stiles was closer to death than he’d ever thought he’d be.

 

“Son,” the sheriff begins again and his voice is wavering and Stiles can feel a lump forming in his throat again. “I love you, you know that, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Stiles whispers and his own voice is only _just_ there. “I love you, too.”

 

“And when they called me – “ the sheriff continues and grabs Stiles hand tighter. He fights back the sudden impulse to struggle free from the touch and back away. He tells himself his father would never hurt him.

 

“I know, dad,” he whispers back. “It’s okay.”

 

“When I saw them take you in – “ He inhales sharply. “I thought you were dead.”

 

Stiles swallows hard but it does nothing to take away the lump at this point. He stares at his father with tears in his eyes and he feels both miserably and weak as well as full of rage for what the werewolves did to him and therefor also to his father. He imagines it being the other way around and it isn’t hard; he’s already lost his mother and been way too close to losing his father and he can’t begin to _think_ about what it’d be like without him, can’t begin to think about what would happen to his father if Stiles died.

 

“I’m not,” Stiles whispers and smiles although his eyes are full of pain. “I’m not, I’m okay, I really am. And whatever it is that the others are not telling me, I’ll get though that as well. Don’t worry about me,” he tells his father which is the same as telling a door to stop opening or closing and he knows this but it’s all he can do. And the sheriff nods like he’s listening to what Stiles’ saying when in all honestly he really isn’t but it’s okay because Stiles is awake and he’s breathing and for right now that’s as good as it’s ever going to get.

 

“You really should get some rest,” his father tells him and Stiles nods. “Come on kids, time to go home.”

 

The pack looks up at them and Stiles knows that they’ve heard everything, maybe even Lydia and Allison, but he can’t find it in him to care. They all get to their feet and start heading for the door except Lydia and Aiden and Stiles is about to ask what they’re doing when he realizes; they’re watching him. He doesn’t know if he’s irritated or happy about this but he can’t argue that it makes him feel ten times safer.

 

“I’ll drop by later,” Scott tells him as he heads towards the door with Allison and Kira.

 

“Don’t sleep for three weak again,” Isaac jokes, but there’s an inch of uncertainty to his words. Stiles rolls his eyes and snorts which seem to be enough answer for the werewolf.

 

Eventually he’s alone. Or mostly alone, as alone as one can be with two babysitters making out in from of him. Stiles sighs and groans. They break apart and looks at him and Stiles gives them a ‘seriously, right now, right here?’ look.

 

“What do you think we’ve been doing these past weeks when we’ve been on Stiles-duty?” Lydia mocks but takes a step back from Aiden nevertheless.

 

Stiles pulls a face. “Ew, gross.”

 

Aiden smirks in a very Aiden-manner and Stiles wonders if he has the authority to throw them both out. It is his room after all but they seem to be very serious about this _we’ll look after you_ -thing, serious enough that Stiles is sure he won’t be left to his own thoughts anytime soon.

 

“I’m going to try and sleep some more, please don’t have sex in the room, I beg you.”

 

It must be something about the way he says it, it must remind them of what he’d sounded like when they’d been kidnapped because they both freeze and stare at him with vibrating nostrils, like they are haunted by terribly images. He wants to apologies but he also wants to scream and he’s not sure what he’ll do if he opens his mouth so he settles on closing his eyes and fall asleep again.


	3. Chapter 3

He can handle it for one whole day and about five or six hours longer before he loses it. Scott and Allison are playing a card game and Derek is on the computer situated on a chair by the window. Various members of the pack drop by every now and again because it’s Saturday and apparently none of them have anything better to do than walk into his hospital room and look at him with pain and worry. They never stay for long though, and Stiles can’t help but feel it has something to do with the big secret that they haven’t talked about yet. So far he’s managed to put it aside and focus on his body; it’s still bruised and his leg still isn’t all healed but it’s getting there and he’s not sore or burning anymore. That doesn’t mean he can’t recall what he’d felt lying on that floor or pressed against the wall, he can still feel the hands and the dick and the cum and the overwhelming, suffocating _pain._

 

“Okay we need to have a pack meeting ASAP,” he says and drops his phone in his lap.

 

The two werewolves and the hunter look at him with surprised expressions, like they’d forgotten he was even in the room to begin with.

 

“What do you mean?” Scott asks dump folded. Stiles grits his teeth and clenches his fists and luckily Derek catches on pretty quickly.

 

“He wants to know what it is we aren’t telling him and judging by the anger radiating from him I’d say he wants to know right now,” the former alpha says and closes his laptop.

 

“That’s about right,” Stiles says and unclenches his fists. He looks from Derek to Scott then Allison and back to the Sourwolf. None of them are actually talking though. Scott is staring at the others with his mouth half open, Allison has her jaw tightened and she looks at Stiles with an intensity he hasn’t seen before and Derek – well, Derek is breathing very heavily like he’s trying to calm himself down whilst never taking his eyes off Stiles.

 

“So?” he says finally. “I’m guessing the big bad werewolves did something to me?”

 

Scott and Allison wince like he’s punched them and even Derek’s face twists uncomfortably. Stiles is beginning to feel his heart rate quicken up. His palms get sweaty and his throat is tight and unhelpful all together.

 

“Maybe your father should tell you,” Scott says. “Or Deaton.”

 

“Deaton?” Stiles says in a weak voice. “It’s that bad then?”

 

No one answers that question either and Stiles is pretty certain he’s going to fall into a full blown panic attack soon. He feels like he should warn them but he can’t afford to focus on anything but his breathing right now.

 

He thinks Derek can probably hear how fast his heart is starting to beat because he gets up from the chair and moves to sit on the one next to the bed and it’s meant to calm the human down but it does the opposite. He’s beginning to understand that whatever this is it’s pretty damn serious. He can’t imagine what could possibly be that bad, after everything that happened he got out alive, they _all_ got out alive, and then –

 

“You have to calm down, Stiles,” the Sourwolf says.

 

Stiles shakes his head and says: “tell me what’s wrong with me. Am I sick or something? Did… did I catch something? Can werewolves get – “

 

“No,” Derek interrupts before Stiles rambling goes into a loop with no end. He looks down at his hands and Stiles’ chest is starting to hurt from anticipation. He looks to Allison and Scott but they’re both avoiding eye contact. “What they did to you,” Derek says, “it did something to your body.”

 

“Seriously? Is that how you’re going to explain it?” Allison finally snaps.

 

“When you say ‘what they did to me’ are we referring to, you know, everything or are we – okay, yes, judging by your look it’s, okay, it’s the… the knotting,” and he winces when he says it and looks down at his hands. He’s not breathing at this point, just staring at his long, slender fingers that won’t stop shaking.

 

“It’s rare,” Derek says in nothing but a whisper. “So very, very rare. But it happened.”

 

Stiles wants to ask ‘what happened’ but he can’t open his mouth right now, he’s still holding his breath, forcing his soon-to-be panic attack to stay away for just little while longer, just a few seconds more.

 

“You’re pregnant, Stiles.”

 

He exhales loudly and jolts his head to look at Derek. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

The werewolf closes his eyes and swallows hard, Stiles doesn’t think he’s seen him distressed since the thing with Cora. “I’m sorry – “

 

“No!” Stiles shouts and looks from the beta to Scott who’s refusing to meet his eyes and Allison who opens her mouth to say something – probably ‘sorry’ – but Stiles shouts again: ,,No, NO! Stop fucking with me, tell me the goddamn truth! What did they really do to me?”

 

“Stiles – “ Derek tries again as he reaches out to take his hand. Stiles pulls away and inches to the other side of the bed, ignores how hurt and frustrated Derek looks. Stiles can feel his breathing starting to quicken despite all of his efforts.

 

“No,” he whispers. “Y-you can’t – “ His voice breaks. “This isn’t happening.”

 

“Sorry,” Scott mumbles and finally looks at him. “We didn’t know how to tell you – “

 

“Shut up,” Stiles whispers and covers his ears with his palms, he pulls his legs up and ignores how it sends jolts of pain through his body. “Shut up!”

 

He’s breathing way to fast and he knows that but he doesn’t even try to slow it down. A part of him tells him to calm the fuck down because this can’t be happening, there is no way that any of this is real, but then there’s _that other part_ , the part that reminds him of demons and foxes and werewolves and alphas being able to take and give memories and glowing blue, yellow and red eyes and people drawing power from trees and sacrifices and magic and –

 

“Stiles, breathe!”

 

He feels Derek’s hands on his shoulder and he can’t help it when fear flashes through his body instantly. He whimpers but doesn’t fight against it. Derek loosens his grip immediately but doesn’t let go.

 

“Focus on my breathing, Stiles,” the older male says but Stiles doesn’t want to, he wants to let the breathing go rapid, let his heart beat so fast it bursts, wants to pass our and –

 

“Stiles!” the sound of his father brings him back enough that he follows orders: “Listen to Derek’s heartbeat. Listen to mine.”

 

Stiles can’t actually hear his father’s heartbeat at this distance but he gets the idea. He nods weakly and then Derek takes his hands and presses his palm against his chest. He can feel Derek’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall, and he tries to match it. It’s hard and it hurts and white little dots makes his vision blurry but finally he can inhale deeply and then exhale and then inhale and eventually he falls back onto his bed, feeling weak and miserably.

 

Derek’s hands doesn’t let go right away, instead he brushes Stiles’ hair away from his forehead sticky with sweat. Stiles’ eyes flutters close and his hands are still on the matrass.

 

“You okay, son?” the sheriff asks and sits down on the opposite side of the bed.

 

“No,” Stiles whispers and bites down on his lower lip not to say anything else he might regret later. He can feels his father touch his shoulder gently but he pulls away quickly, defiantly unsure of the limits. That doesn’t exactly make any of this easier.

 

“We’re going to make it, Stiles. You are going to make it!”

 

“Always the optimist,” Isaac mumbles. Stiles doesn’t have the energy to ask when the fuck he entered this circus show but most of all he wants to snort in agreement and then fall asleep for another two or three months.

 

“What can we do?” he asks instead and opens his eyes. Lydia is standing next to Isaac just a few meters into the room and they must’ve arrived at the same time. Everyone’s looking at him but no one is saying anything. It seems to be a thing they do these days. He closes his eyes tightly because he gets the idea: they can’t do anything.

 

He can feel the tears falling from his eyes and he doesn’t want to try and stop them anymore.

 

“Stiles,” Lydia says and he steps closer. “It’s going to be alright. You’re not going to die.”

 

“No I’m just going to fucking – “ he snaps but he can’t even say it. He swallows away the lump and forces himself up in a sitting position.

 

“I’m guessing your utter _asshole_ silence means that there is nothing we can do? We can’t – We can’t get it out of me?”

 

“Do you – Do you want to?” Derek asks and Stiles exhales deeply.

 

“Maybe, I don’t know. Can I?”

 

Derek shrugs. “We can talk to Deaton if you want to,” he offers. He finds Stiles’ eyes, still full of tears, and they look at one another for a heartbeat before Stiles nods and the werewolf gets up.

 

“Okay, I’ll talk to him. Isaac, come with me. You too, Scott.”

 

“What – “ Scott begins but Isaac just pushes him gently towards the door and the alpha swallows his protests.

 

“Come, Lydia, we should let Stiles rest.” Allison offers Lydia a hand and the girl looks torn between taking it and arguing against staying with Stiles.

 

“Someone should stay and keep an eye on him,” she says.

 

“He has his father, he’ll be fine for now,” Allison says and Lydia takes the hand with a sigh. “We’ll come back later,” Allison says and gives Stiles a weak smile that he can’t find it in him to return.

 

The door closes shut behind them and suddenly Stiles is alone with his father for the first time in a long, long time and then he breaks down; he cries and he feels his father wrap his arms around him immediately without waiting for permission first. Stiles doesn’t wince but leans into the touch, leans his forehead against his shoulder and cries until his entire body is shaking.

 

“It’s going to be alright,” he father promises him and runs his hand down Stiles’ back. “Shhh,” he hushes and rocks him back and forth like he did when he was a child. “Shhh, it’s going to be alright.”

 

Stiles cries until he’s so tired he falls asleep in his father’s arm and even then he still whimpers and sobs every now and again. When the others return a couple of hours later they find the sheriff with tears in his eyes and Stiles’ head in his lap.

 

Allison sighs and grabs the bed, like she’s afraid she might fall. “Is he going to be alright?”

 

“He has to,” Lydia says sternly, but Allison can tell she’s as unsure and afraid as the rest of them. “He’s been through so much shit he’ll make it through this as well. He _has_ to.”

 

No one argues; they just watch the boy. There’s something comforting about him when he sleeps, like nothing evil can touch him when his mind is far, far away.

 

They’re wrong. Even in his dreams the world is on fire.

 

He wakes up screaming again.

 

Instantly Isaac and Kira is by his side, telling him its okay, hushing him, making promises of never letting anything evil touch him ever again. And when he’s calmed down significantly Isaac reaches out and takes his hand, rubs circles with his thump on Stiles’ skin.

 

“You’re alright,” Isaac mumbles when Stiles’ breathing goes back to normal and he can blink the tears away. “You’re going to be alright.”

 

“Am I?” Stiles asks and looks at the other boy. His thump stops for a split-second as he looks at the other boy, brown eyes meeting light blue. None of them say anything and Kira is the one to break the silence. When she proposes they watch a movie they don’t argue. They place the computer in Stiles’ lap and they situate themselves on each side of him, Isaac never letting go of his hand.

 

Halfway through Isaac is fast asleep with his head on Stiles’ shoulder. Around midnight someone knocks on the door and in enters the twins and Derek. At this point all three of them are sound asleep; Kira curled into Stiles’ lap.

 

Stiles doesn’t wake up when Kira or Isaac move or the laptop is removed or someone gently tugs him under the covers and turns the lights off. In fact he doesn’t wake up until the next morning by the sight of Derek curled into himself in one of the plastic chairs and the twins as a bundle of limps on the floor. He can’t help but smile through his tired haze, and vaguely he wonders exactly how these people are supposed to keep him from danger, but mostly he’s just really grateful that they’re there, them being there is enough to calm him down.

 

And so that becomes his life until he’s finally allowed to leave the hospital; people takes turns in watching him, always at least two and more often than not three or four people will be there at the same time. It’s not like they do anything, they’ll just be doing homework, reading books, playing card games or streaming movies on Netflix.

 

Too often it seems like Stiles’ room is used for dating, and he really doesn’t remember agreeing to that. Honestly his idea of a fun Wednesday evening does not include watching Ethan and Danny having a make-out competition on his floor.

 

At first he occupies himself with sleeping, thinks he can hide himself in his dreams, but he quickly learns that it isn’t an option at all; the dreams are somehow even worse than reality. Sometimes he can’t even remember them, all he has is left when he wakes up is this terribly feeling, like he’s drowning or falling or dying. Or the dreams will be so vivid it takes him far too long to register that they aren’t actually real, that he is – somewhat – safe and okay and with his pack and his family and friends.

 

Most times he’ll wake up screaming, shouting for help or begging for someone to ‘stop, please, god stop, stop, stop’ and those are the worst, because when he finally pulls out of it, it’s only to be met with desperate eyes and unsure gazes and he knows, oh how he _knows_ , that it wasn’t a dream, what happened was real, and they saw, his pack saw, what happened to him. And no matter what those images will always be there when they look at Stiles. And it terrifies him deeply.

 

Derek doesn’t show for several days and all Isaac and Scott can tell him, is that he and Deaton are working on it. And Stiles doesn’t think he’s in any emotional state to ask what ‘it’ is so he bites down the questions and nods, lips in a tight line. But just because he tries not to think about it, it doesn’t mean that this isn’t actually happening to him, so about a week into his hospital stay doctor Deaton shows up. The man stand at the end of the bed and looks at Stiles with a look the boy thinks he gives to the dogs just before he puts them down for good. The thought makes him shiver but he recovers and shoots the man a smile.

 

“Hello, doc, what’s the news?”

 

“Hello, Stiles,” Deaton answers. “How are you?”

 

The boy shrugs and runs his tongue absently over his teeth. “More or less okay, I supposed. I’ve been better, you know.”

 

“I can imagine.” Deaton tilts his head and stares at Stiles for a very long time and it honestly makes the boy nervous and unsettled.

 

“Seriously though what is the verdict?” he asks in what he hopes, but doubts, is a light tone.

 

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t yet tell you if there is a way to get the foster out of you,” Deaton answers. “But I can, however, tell you about what is about to happen to your body.”

 

Stiles pulls a face. “Great, that sounds like the speech they give in fourth grade about puppetry. If you’re going to tell me I’ll grow hair in weird places now I’m out of here.”

 

And Deaton actually smiles. “Afraid not,” he says again. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t go to change, Mr. Stilinski. Your body is not build to carry children – “

 

“No shit.”

 

“– and so this will be extremely painful. Basically your body has to find a way to have this child inside of you. It is, in short, going to not only move around with the organs inside of you, but be forced to grow organs you don’t already have in your body.”

 

“Wait,” Stiles says. “Are you telling me my body is making a uterus?”

 

Again he smiles. “Not exactly, but maybe that’s the bed way to explain it. Your body is simply trying to make the pregnancy possibly despite everything.”

 

“Despite of the fact that it isn’t actually possible, you mean,” Stiles spits angrily.

 

Deaton looks at him wordlessly and it’s just as unsettling as before. Stiles wants to tell him not to do that, but he actually has an enormous amount of respect for the mysterious man, mostly because he’s pretty certain that he’s his only hope for making it out of this alive.

 

“Mr. Stilinski, there is something else,” Deaton says and this time he steps closer and Stiles thinks that has to be a bad sign.

 

“Oh no,” Stiles mumbles.

 

“Oh no indeed,” Deaton says. “There’s no good way to put this, so I might as well say it as it is. You’re going into a form of heat.”

 

Stiles blinks furiously for a long while, as he stares at the doctor, who stands completely still in front of him. And then he makes a grimace and some wild gestures with his hands. “What are you on, doc? Are you talking about, like, heats as in heats as in my body is going to, like, crave sexual contact?”

 

“In short yes that is what I mean.”

 

Stiles groans and hides his head in his hands. “ Oh no, no, no, this is not happening, this is not my life. Why? Why does my body thinks that’s okay? Because of the baby?”

 

“Yes, because of the hormones, but don’t worry. It will only be on full moons,” Deaton assures him.

 

“Oh of course,” Stiles hisses and doesn’t look up from his hands.  “This is fucking _un_ believable.”

 

“ I can give you something for it now,” Deaton says and pulls something from the bag Stiles hadn’t even noticed he was carrying. “It’ll help the first couple of full moons but after that it’s mostly useless.”

 

Stiles doesn’t answer, just groans louder.

 

“Also,” Deaton continues. “There is one more thing.”

 

,,Of course,” Stiles mumbles into his palms.

 

“The pregnancy will not take nine months, only around five or six.”

 

Stiles actually looks up at this and stares at the older man with furrowed eyebrows. “Only?” he asks and Deaton smirks.

 

“It will be extremely painful should you chose to go through with this,” Deaton says honestly, “but I’m also afraid that at this point I don’t have many options should you wish to, well, get it out.”

 

The words ‘get it out’ makes Stiles pull another face and then proceed to hide his face back into his palms. There is another long silence and he almost thinks that Deaton is gone but then he feels a hand on his shoulder and he jolts upright, his heart beating a thousand miles per hour he thinks. Deaton obviously notices the boy’s discomfort but he doesn’t mention it and Stiles is beyond grateful. The man just hands him the medicine in a little see-through bottle and bits his farewell.

 

Alone for the first time in almost a month Stiles just sits utterly still and looks at the bottle in his hand. He can feel how his heart doesn’t stop beating painfully fast and he can’t find it in him to try and stop it from pounding too fast. Images start flashing on the inside of his eyelids, pictures, memories, screams fills his ears and he shuts his eyes tight as he tries to swallow down the burning ache. He can feel how his body is beginning to tremble all over as he feels the hands on his body, feels them rip his clothes off, feels them bruise his body, feels them –

 

“Stiles!”

 

He opens his eyes abruptly and stares into a pair of wide, blue, glowing eyes.

 

 

“Stiles, are you okay? Is this a panic attack?” the man grunts out.

 

Stiles shakes his head violently and swallows again and again, the salvia suddenly threatening to strangle him, he thinks. “No,” he chokes out and breathes heavily. “I’m fine. Seriously. I’m fine.”

 

Derek doesn’t look like he believes him but he backs away nevertheless. Stiles sighs and places the medicine on the chair next to the bed.

 

“When’s the next full moon?” he asks.

 

“Tomorrow, why?”

 

“Oh this is fucking great,” Stiles mumbles and eyes the bottle like this is its entire fault.

 

“Stiles, are you sure – “

 

“Yes, I’m fucking sure!” he practically shouts and it isn’t until then he realizes that Scott and Isaac are also in the room. They turn to him with wide eyes and Stiles groans loudly and pulls his legs up, wrapping his arms around them. He can hear the werewolves all walk closer but none of them speak, probably just look at each other, having a wordless conversation about him. “I’m fine,” he spits irritated after a while and sighs heavily again. “Seriously.”

 

And finally they actually pull back and go back to whatever the fuck they do when they babysit him. Stiles stays in his positions, curled into himself, for what seems like hours. When he finally looks up Derek is the only left in the room and Stiles didn’t even register the other two leave. He almost feels bad, but only almost. The Sourwolf is on his laptop again and Stiles watches him, can’t help it; he wonders how Derek can sit so still when he’s reading, how he can be like a goddamn stature, how he hardly even moves his head, he wonders how someone can look so hot while reading and he wonders if Derek is actually reading anything or just pretending to, because it shouldn’t be possibly to sit so still. Stiles feels jittery and restless just looking at him. He feels like he needs to start moving soon, feels like he’s been in this fucking hospitals bed for far too long.

 

“Sit still,” Derek growls without looking at him.

 

“I’m restless,” Stiles whines.

 

“Then stop being restless,” Derek mumbles.

 

“I have ADHD you prick,” Stiles says and looks for something to throw after the werewolf. Before he can reach out and grab the medicine bottle – thinks it is an okay sacrifice to make, really – Derek is there next to him, looking at him with a very serious look on his otherwise stern face. “What do you want?” Stiles asks. When Derek doesn’t answer but just leans into his personal space Stiles hearts picks up speed again and his breathing gets caught in his throat.

 

“Sorry,” Derek says immediately as he stands up straight again. “I wasn’t thinking – “

 

“It’s okay,” Stiles mumbles, voice a bit strained. “I mean it.”

 

“I just wanted to pick you up,” Derek explains.

 

“You what?” Stiles splutters and stares at the werewolf with his big eyes and pupils blown.

 

“Lift you into a wheelchair and go outside, you know, to get you out of your restlessness.”

 

“Oh,” Stiles says. “Wow, that’s actually really nice of you.”

 

Derek snorts. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

 

“No, sorry,” Stiles says. “But no wheelchair, I can walk by myself.”

 

“I don’t think – “

 

“Please? I’m going to go insane if I don’t start to move my legs soon,” Stiles complains and Derek rolls his eyes but sighs and Stiles smiles widely. He pulls the covers away and reveals his hospital clothes. Slowly he moves his legs so they can touch the floor. He place his feet on the ground and pushes himself up in a standing position. “Ta da,” he says and spreads his arms wide. Derek rolls his eyes again but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, I’ve been cheating, I’ve been walking to the bathroom, you got me.”

 

“Come on,” Derek grunts and leads the way. Stiles follows after, slower than normally, but faster than anticipated. As they make their way down the corridor Derek is right next to him, ready to catch him if he falls, and it’s only half as irritating as it should’ve been, Stiles thinks.

 

Making it to outside is surprisingly easy and Stiles wonders is maybe he should tell Melissa that they should do something about the hospitals security. For now, however, he’s busy feeling the wind on his face and the chills running down his spine. He smiles widely when his teeth chatter because of the cold. Derek takes a step closer and opens his arms hesitantly.

 

“Can I?” he asks and Stiles looks at him, pushes the horrifying images in his mind away and nods slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Derek assures him as he wraps his arms around Stiles. The boy stiffens for a second or two but then he relaxes against his chest and just hums in agreement. They stay outside until not even Derek’s impressive body heat can keep them both warm and they have to go inside. They make it back before Scott, Allison and Malia show up. And at that point Stiles is fast asleep, wrapped in several blankets, his lips blue, but he smiles in his sleep for the first time in days.


	4. Chapter 4

His room smells different, he thinks, as he sits down on the bed with a deep sigh. Somehow he isn’t as happy as he thought he’d be when he was finally home.

 

He looks out of his bedroom window and sees Scott and Derek on his lawn. The sight makes Stiles frown and he pulls a grimace and falls back onto his bed. On the bedside table are the pills Deaton got him. They did, indeed, get him more or less through the full moon. He swallows hard at the thought of when they will no longer have any effect but in all honesty he already has too many problems to worry about.

 

Deaton had called and told him he’d found a way for Stiles to get an abortion and that he’d like to see him at the clinic as soon as he was released. Stiles had thought about going right away but suddenly his body felt heavy and tired and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to walk into his own house without help.

 

This is his life now, he scuffs irritated as he groans loudly into his pillow. Scott and Derek will probably wait outside his bedroom window all night to make sure he’s safe and Stiles wants to tell them they’re being ridicules and overreacting but then he remembers his conversation with the pack just before he got released:

 

“You didn’t kill them?” he’d heard his own voice repeat slowly, like he hadn’t understood the words.

 

“Some of them escaped,” Scott whispered.

 

“So,” Stiles asked and swallowed hard, “are they going to come for me?”

 

“We’re pretty certain they will, yes,” Derek grunted. He’d been pacing back and forth and Stiles had thought it was the first time he’d ever seen the werewolf not sit completely still.

 

“And the baby?” he continued.

 

Something went through the pack when he mentioned the baby, the foster, whatever it is he’s currently beginning to carry inside him.

 

Derek inhaled slowly and nodded. “You and the baby. The baby – It’s pack to the them.”

 

Stiles pulled a face and sighed. “Of course it is,” he mumbled and growled angrily.

 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears something like a bone breaking and his father shouting for the two werewolves to stop play fighting in his back yard. Stiles sighs and rolls over so he can pull the covers up over his head and pretend that his life isn’t falling apart around him. Around two hours later he has to accept that he’s doing a very poorly job and he jolts upright to a sitting position and stares at the wall ahead of him. He can no longer hear or see Derek and Scott but that doesn’t mean they’re not there. Stiles isn’t really afraid, thinks vaguely that he probably should be, but it’s like he doesn’t have the room. At the moment he’s too fucking traumatized to worry about anything else but getting through the night without nightmares. And then there’s the baby and every time he still even remotely thinks about it he gets these chills all over his body and he feels sick. The very thought that there is something inside of him, that there is potential life, he can’t stomach that thought, doesn’t know how to handle that. No one prepared him for this shit, no ever told him what to do if he was ever raped and impregnated by angry werewolves.

 

“You asleep?"

 

“Holy Jesus!” he yelps and almost falls out of bed. He’s able to recover – more or less – and once his heart is under control he can look at the window and see Isaac standing in front of it. “Stop fucking giving me heart attacks, Lahey!” Stiles spits and takes a few calming breathes. “What are you doing here?”

 

He shrugs and walks into the room. “Bored.”

 

“Bored? Of what? Sleeping?” Stiles asks but moves in so the werewolf can sit on his bed.

 

“Watching you,” Isaac says and yawns when he places himself and his long limps on the edge of the bed.

 

“Of course,” Stiles mumbles irritated. “I thought that was Derek and Scott’s job?”

 

“They went home about ten minutes ago,” Isaac continues.

 

“And you got bored so quickly?”

 

“Stop complaining it’s your ass I’m looking after.”

 

“You’re checking out my ass alright.”

 

Isaac looks at him out of the corner of his eyes and snorts. Stiles smirks and lies down on the bed again. There is silence between them for a moment and Stiles can feel his eyelids grow heavier with each passing second. When he’s just about to fall asleep he hears Isaac voice:

 

“We mean it, Stiles. We’re going to protect you.”

 

The boy opens his eyes open and looks at the werewolf who’s watching him with very serious eyes. The sudden tension in the room makes Stiles swallow hard and nod, because what else can he do? He doesn’t even want to try and imagine what he’d do if it was the other way around, if it’d happened to Lydia or Allison or Isaac or Derek or –

 

“Stiles?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Don’t… Don’t scare us like that.”

 

The boy inhales sharply and doesn’t even think about snickering out a ‘it wasn’t exactly my fault’ or ‘I hadn’t planned on it’, instead he just reaches out and finds Isaac’s hand.

 

“Promise,” he mumbles as his eyelids begin to close again.

 

“Okay,” Isaac whispers.

 

Stiles hums before he falls asleep.

 

When he wakes a couple of hours later he’s screaming at the top of his lungs. Aiden is in the room desperately hushing him and Ethan is shaking him lightly and watching him with big, panicked eyes. He gasps for air and feels his body tremble as he slowly regains control. He inhales deeply, exhales and falls down on his bed again, head heavy and body weak.

 

The two former alphas look awkwardly between each other and keep asking if he’s okay and Stiles keeps humming and swallowing down the sudden urge to tell them that concern doesn’t suit them. He knows they’re just trying to help and be a part of Scott’s pack but he still feels like he’s suffocating.

 

By the time his father walks in to wake him they’ve both disappeared through the bedroom window.

 

“You okay son?” the sheriff asks.

 

“Fine,” Stiles mumbles and pulls on a sweater.

 

“You ready?”

 

Stiles shrugs but can’t really muster a reply. His throat is tight and his palms are sweaty. The sheriff just nods and tells him to put some pants on before they leave. Stiles snorts and grabs a pair of red jeans as he heads after his father downstairs and into his car. Stiles had tried to argue he could drive just fine himself but his father had looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and that had been it, really. So Stiles is sitting in the passenger seat, following the other cars on the roads with his eyes as he tries not to think about where they’re going.

 

Fifteen minutes later they pull into the parking lot in front of the clinic and Stiles is the first out of the car, headed towards the entrance, his dad right behind him. And Stiles tries not to mind, tries not think about what will happen if they never find the other werewolves, and this will be his life –

 

His shuts his thoughts off when he sees Deaton waiting for him next to Scott, Derek and Isaac. Stiles sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically at the sight of the three werewolves. He folds his arms across his chest and looks at them.

 

“So,” he says when none of them explains, “what exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

 

“Well,” Scott says, ,,we’re here for moral support.”

 

“You serious?” Stiles snorts and Isaac inhales deeply before opening his mouth to make some snarky remark but Scott puts his hand gently on his beta’s arm and says:

 

“Yeah, we are. We just wanted to, you know, let you know that no matter what you choose – it’s your choice and we’ll help you even if – “

 

“What he’s saying,” Derek interrupts, “is that this is your choice.”

 

“Also you don’t want to leave me out of sight because you think – “ He stops abruptly and tenses as he looks from Derek to Scott and then Isaac. “Wait, what do you mean when you say ‘even if’? Is there something you’re not telling me again?”

 

Isaac grimaces and looks away, Scott flinches like a wounded puppy and Derek stiffens, shoulders tense and his posture uncomfortably and very Hale-like.

 

“Of course there is,” Stiles is muttering as he clenches his fist. “What is it this time?”

 

“Stiles,” Derek begins.

 

“No, just fucking tell me!” He shouts angrily and he doesn’t care if he’s upsetting the wolves, if he’s upsetting his father or if he’s upsetting the fucking animals, he just wants people to tell him the _goddamn_ truth for once!

 

“We’re trying to make this easier on you!” Derek says and he doesn’t lose his stiff posture.

 

“What are you – _look_ , this is not your decision to make, so tell me the truth.”

 

“We’re really just trying to help,” Scott tries again.

 

“I don’t care anymore!” Stiles shouts again. He’s so angry it feels like his blood is boiling. There’s only been few times in his life he’s been this angry and those include the time he punched Jackson in the face and shouted at Derek for shagging a mass-murderer.

 

“Stiles – “ Isaac tries but Stiles won’t give him his chance:

 

“No, just shut up! Tell me the truth!”

 

“Stiles,” his father begins behind him and Stiles only manages to choke down a frustrated scream because he bites down hard on his lower lip.

 

“For _crying out loud_ ,” he says and closes his eyes shut for a second, only listening to the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. “I’m sick and tired of you guys not telling me everything,” he finally states. “The pregnancy, the werewolves and now this. You do realize this is my life, right? That this is all happening to me?”

 

“Of course,” Derek growls irritated and he looks almost as angry as Stiles feels.

 

“Then why aren’t you – “

 

“We are trying to _protect_ you!” Derek shouts but Stiles is having none of this bullshit.

 

“Fine but then do a better job at it!” he shouts back and takes a step closer. He feels a headache forming and his vision is starting to swim, like he could pass out any minute.

 

“Mr. Stilinski – “ Deaton says but Stiles is too far gone to register at this point:

 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” he tells Derek, Scott and Isaac. “You don’t get to try and protect me and then leave details for me! It’s _my_ life and I get that you want to protect me and that shit but maybe if you’d done a better job in the first place we wouldn’t be in the mess!”

 

It’s a low blow. No, it’s below a low blow. In fact the blow is so low it’s like punching the ground, and Stiles knows it. He can see how the wind is forced out of the werewolves as they stare at him wide-eyed. Isaac bites his lip and clenches his jaw tight, Scott looks on the verge of tears and Derek has gone rather numb. Stiles wants to say sorry because he knows he stepped over some invisibly line but he’s also still very, very angry and frustrated so he decides on just stepping closer to Deaton and get this over with.

 

Only problem is that as soon as he steps forward the world starts spinning, his loses his balance and suddenly the ground is moving towards him at an alarming speed. Just before he hits the floor someone grabs him and he sinks into protecting arms. He thinks about fighting the darkness, he could probably do it if he tried, but he’s still too angry to bother so he closes his eyes and passes out.

 

And he dreams.

 

Dreams about darkness creeping in from every corner of the room.

 

Dreams about hands pressed against his back, against his stomach, against his forehead.

 

Dreams about tongues licking his ears and his cheeks, dreams about salvia sliding down his pale face like venom.

 

He dreams about being held down, dreams about pain that overthrows his willpower and makes him whimper.

 

And he dreams about fear.

 

He doesn’t scream when he wakes up.

 

He is breathing heavily, however, his fingers trembling but otherwise he’s fine. He swallows and sits up on what he guesses is some sort of metal table. It’s rather uncomfortable, he notices, as he gets up and feels his head aching in protest. He groans and runs a hand absentmindedly through his hair.

 

“How are you?” his father asks immediately and Stiles just groans louder.

 

“Mr. Stilinski is fine,” Deaton says.

 

“Speak for yourself,” the boy mumbles.

 

“Is this because of the – does it have anything to do with, you know – “

 

“Pregnancy,” Stiles spits irritated without looking at his best friend. “It’s called pregnancy, it means I’m pregnant, Scotty.”

 

Out of the corner of his eyes Stiles can see Isaac glare at him angrily but he decides not to comment on it, not in the mood for another outburst of anger right now. Instead he sighs and lets his hand drop into his lap as he turns to look at Deaton.

 

“It has everything to do with the pregnancy, yes, Scott,” Deaton answers as he looks directly at Stiles. “Which brings us to the real reason why Mr. Stilinski is here.”

 

Stiles tenses immediately and again he can feel his palms get sweaty. His father is right there next to him and he puts a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. It takes all of Stiles willpower not to suddenly pull back from the touch but he tells himself, over and over again, that his father will _never_ hurt him.

 

“Okay,” Stiles says and licks his dry lips. “What – what can we do?”

 

“Well,” Deaton says in his usual manner. “Having an abortion is never easy when talking about werewolves for obvious reasons, but given the fact that you’re also a male it only makes it that more difficult. When doing so we could risk damaging some of your internal organs.”

 

“Are we talking – okay, yes, we are talking damaging them for good, like blood and – “

 

“Yes,” Deaton cuts off Stiles’ rambling. “It could in worst case scenario lead to your death.”

 

The hand on his shoulder tenses and Stiles can feel his father’s hand tremble slightly.

 

“Not with that said that the actual pregnancy and the birth are much easier or less lethal necessarily,” Deaton continues. “In fact it might be just as dangerous but a lot more painful as I’ve already told you.”

 

Stiles inhales and then proceeds to sigh and close his eyes. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand as he thinks about everything Deaton is telling him. Basically it’s shitty news no matter what. Abortion equals possibly death, pregnancy equals possible death, birth-giving equals possibly death and the last two apparently also includes buckets of pain and oh yeah then we have the heats every full moon.

 

“Stiles,” his father says gently and loosens his grip. “I know this is difficult.”

 

 _No you don’t_ Stiles wants to tell him. He wants to tell him that this is so much more than ‘this is difficult’, this is suffocating and painful because when Stiles thinks about it, thinks about the pregnancy, it still doesn’t feel like it’s actually happening to him, he can’t process the fact that he’s the one who’s one month pregnant. That he’s the one who was raped. That he’s the one who’ll give birth to a child – a real, breathing, _living_ child.

 

He whimpers weakly and can’t help it when he puts his hand on his stomach. The tears are stinging in his eyes but he ignores them. He focuses of his breathing, focuses on the fact that he’s alive. Well, for now at least. He focuses on anything, nothing and everything. He focuses on the people around him, on the possibly person-to-be inside of him.

 

“Oh god,” he whispers and when he opens his eyes tears are definitely falling from his eyes. “I don’t – I don’t know what to do.”

 

There is a long moment of silence and then Scott is right there in front of him, smiling comfortingly, and rubbing his shoulders gently. “Hey,” he says. “It’ll be alright.”

 

“How?” Stiles whispers and he notices vaguely how he hasn’t pulled his hand away from his stomach.

 

“No matter what you choose,” Scott says, ,,it will be okay with us, do you understand? Do what you – “

 

“But that’s the problem,” he whimpers and leans forward until his head is resting on Scott’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t want to be pregnant, I don’t want to hurt anymore because I don’t think I can handle any more pain because god it still hurts so bad, you know, and I’m – I’m so sick and tired already and – and I don’t know. Pregnant? Five months of, of this, I don’t think…” He sobs and lets Scott wrap him into a tight hug. “I don’t want to be a father,” Stiles cries into the soft fabric of Scott’s shirt. “B-but I also don’t w-want to n-n-not be a father, do you g-get me?”

 

Scott laughs gently and doesn’t let go of him. “Yeah,” he whispers into Stiles’ hair. “I think I do.”

 

“Please, Scott,” Stiles mumbles. “Please tell me the truth.”

 

It’s Derek and neither Scott nor Isaac that finally says it as it is: “It’s pack,” he announce and Stiles pulls out of Scott’s embrace to look at the Sourwolf.

 

“What do you mean? I know it’s pack, you already told me,” he asks confused.

 

“No,” Derek sighs. “We mean the baby is not only part of the other werewolf pack it’s also part of ours.”

 

And that just doesn’t make any sense to Stiles so he furrows his eyebrows and looks from Derek to Deaton, like he half expects the man to tell him that Derek has gone a bit mental lately.

 

“How?” he asks finally.

 

“It’s possibly,” Derek shrugs. “Sometimes to form alliances with other packs, two werewolves, one from each pack, would get a child together. The child would essentially be part of both packs and would that way bind the packs together, often for eternity. The two packs would often merge into one with time when one of the alphas would die.”

 

Stiles would really prefer to pass out again. He grabs Scott’s arm not to fall or something and the alpha puts a hand on Stiles leg. The boy can’t help but hiss weakly under the touch, can’t help but remember when another werewolf had put his hand there, had put his hands everywhere on Stiles body –

 

“Stiles!”

 

He opens his eyes that he hasn’t even realized he’d closed and looks at Derek again. The werewolf is watching him with furrowed eyebrows but he’s apparently done with story-time because just like everyone else in the room he’s silent. Stiles comes to the realization he doesn’t like silence at all.

 

“Losing a pack member is like losing a limp,” Stiles mutters without looking at anyone. “Right?”

 

“Stiles – “ Scott starts but Stiles shakes his head and Scott stops.

 

“Okay,” he says and inhales, notices how his body stops trembling and how heart stops beating painfully hard in his chest. “Okay,” he repeats. “I want to go home,” he then concludes and lets Scott help him down. He can walk fine but his father insists on helping him and Stiles lets him, too tired to protest. No one have asked any questions, not even the werewolves have tried to pry in Stiles’ decision and it makes him so grateful he feels like crying all over again.

 

Just before he closes the door behind him he turns to the three of them standing unsurely in the room, looking from one another to Stiles, and says: “I’ll keep it.”

 

He closes the door and lets his father escort him to the car before they can answer him. He half expects them to follow but they don’t and that makes breathing a little bit easier.

 

The drive home is silent and his father keeps turning to look at him for a long time. Stiles bites his cheeks, twists his fingers in his lap and rests his head against the cold window. He’s tired and restless and he’s so sad, it seems to take root in his heart, it seems to grow stronger and stronger. He doesn’t know how to deal with it or shut it off and it terrifies him. All of this, everything that's happening, it terrifies him. But he’s also oddly relived. He’s relieved because he knows that at least he won’t cause the pack any more loss or pain by – by removing the foster. And he’s relieved because now at least something is certain and somewhat permanent in his life and he’s relieved because this, the pregnancy, the baby, it gives him something to, to hold on to. It’s strange, he knows, and he can’t possibly begin to explain but the more he actually thinks about it, the more he thinks about the baby, the calmer he gets until he’s actually relaxed and can sit still for the rest of the drive.

 

“Son,” his father says when they’re inside and Stiles is trying to figure out why the hell they don’t have any coffee.

 

“Yeah?” he asks with his head halfway into one of the closets.

 

“I’m going to support you, no matter what.”

 

Stiles can’t help it when he bumps his head as he retrieves to look at his father. He’s sitting at the table, looking at his son with a very serious but also very sincere and gentle expression and Stiles smiles at the sight.

 

“I know,” he says and nods. “I know, dad. And… and I’ll get through this. No matter how freaky scary it is and no matter how – how painful it’s going to be I’m just going to have to get my shit together, right? I’m not leaving, I’m not leaving anyone ever again.”

 

His father inhales snakingly, obviously choking down tears and nods as well. “Good to know,” he says.

 

Stiles grins and chuckles. “Yeah,” he says. “Now, where the hell is the coffee?”

 

“In the left closet over the sink but caffeine really isn’t good for the baby,” his father tells him.

 

Stiles grimaces and clicks his tongue. “Great,” he mumbles as he grabs the bag of coffee nonetheless.

 

“Stiles – “

 

“One cup,” he begs desperately.

 

“Do you – “

 

“Please?”

 

“Stiles – “

 

“Fine!” He gives up and sighs dramatically. “I’ll go upstairs and drown myself in some random Netflix movie then,” he scowls and snatches a cola from the refrigerator when his father isn’t looking. All he gets in respond is a snort and some mumbling he knows he’s not supposed to hear.

 

Upstairs in his room he’s not surprised to find Derek standing in front of his TV wearing an impressive frown. The teenager rolls his eyes and drops down on his bed.

 

“Hello to you too,” he says and opens the drink. “Thirsty?”

 

“You don’t have to do this,” Derek says instead of answering.

 

Stiles lowers his eyes to the bed sheets. “I know,” he says in a low murmur. “But I want to. Okay? I want to, this is _my_ choice, this is the decision I’ve made and you can’t – “

 

“Okay,” Derek says and surprises Stiles by sitting down on his bed next to him. “Just making sure.”

 

Stiles’ breath gets caught somewhere in the back of his throat and he nods. “Do you want to watch a movie with me?” he asks.

 

Derek huffs but nods and grabs the laptop.

 

And five minutes later they’re watching a movie called ‘Come undone’ because “how can we not, Derek, seriously, the title, it’s like, I mean, holy _god_ we have to watch it, it’s a movie called ‘come undone’ how ridicules is that?” and that is apparently also part of Stiles’ life now. He thinks he’s okay with that.


	5. Chapter 5

“Please tell me again why you’re sleeping on my floor?”

 

“Got tired.”

 

“You’re not very good at this ‘watching out for the human so he doesn’t end up like a kebab’ thing are you?”

 

“Shut up and go back to sleep.”

 

“Well, I can’t.”

 

Isaac actually turns his head in Stiles’ direction at this. He furrows his eyebrows and lifts himself up on his elbows.

 

“Why not?” he asks and Stiles sighs and looks away from the other teenager and his burning, blue eyes. “Are you in pain?” Isaac continues worriedly and stands up from the floor, already taking two steps towards Stiles.

 

“Not really,” Stiles mumbles vaguely and moves the covers. He’s sleeping shirtless and he looks down on his bare stomach like he half expects the baby to magically appear from it or some shit.

 

“Well, is anything the matter?” Isaac asks and sits down on the bed, leading in towards Stiles who shrugs.

 

“No,” he says and pulls a face. “No, it’s okay, it’s just – it feels weird.”

 

“Weird how?” Isaac asks and actually reaches out with his right hand. He stops just before he can touch Stiles’ skin and looks up to meet the boy’s golden eyes.

 

“Like, I don’t know, weird like my body is changing,” Stiles grimaces and drops down heavily on the bed. Isaac inhales and sits back up with his back straight.

 

“Well, I think it’s to be expected, I mean like aren’t you almost two months in?”

 

“Yeah,” Stiles groans and covers his eyes with his arm. “Still, I don’t like it.”

 

“Is… Is there anything I can do to help?” Isaac asks unsure of himself and it’s these moments that Stiles remembers that the werewolf isn’t always a badass leather-wearing supernatural bulldog, he is, in fact, also, sometimes, a lost little puppy.

 

“I’m fine, seriously, Isaac. Come on we need to get our asses to school.” Stiles pulls the covers away completely and jumps out of bed. A little too quickly, unfortunately, and he loses his footing temporarily and sways uncertainly. Isaac is there immediately, holding on to his shoulder. “Thanks,” Stiles says.

 

“Anytime,” the werewolf mumbles before he yawns and grabs his shoes from the floor. He thinks about just disappearing through the window and run back to Scott’s but then he remembers that the sheriff is probably very aware of the fact that Isaac spend half his night in his son’s bedroom and that he’s, hopefully, even grateful for that, so he follows Stiles downstairs.

 

“Boys,” the sheriff greets and waves at them. “Coffee, Isaac?”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Isaac says and goes to the coffee machine on the kitchen counter.

 

“Unfair,” Stiles whines and sits down at the table with his father. “Why does he get to drink caffeine?”

 

“Because I’m not about to give birth,” Isaac says and pours a cop of strong, black coffee. Stiles looks and licks his lips hungrily before he sighs and groans.

 

“Unfair,” he mumbles. ,,Just fucking unfair, I’ll tell you.”

 

“Tell it to Isaac on your way to school, you’re late, chop chop!” the sheriff orders as he gets up himself and makes his way to the hallway. Stiles hums but doesn’t actually leave his chair and Isaac takes the sheriff’s seat in front of him.

 

“You think you can handle school?” Isaac asks and slurps the coffee unnecessarily loud. Stiles ignores the slurping and nods.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says. “Besides I can’t go back to staring at my wall for four more months, can I?”

 

And Isaac can’t really argue that.

 

When Stiles had been home for three days he’d realized that a) all of his friends and pack-members were still attending school and b) he was forced to sit home alone with either Derek or Peter Hale. And although hanging out with Derek was surprisingly entertaining – who’d had thought? – he wolf spend at least 89 percent of his time doing research on the other pack of werewolves. Now normally Stiles would’ve been all over the case but this time he just _can’t_. They’d accidently told him one of their names one day (Jefferson) and Stiles had felt so sick he was sure he was going to throw up. So although he liked the thought of not dying or being possibly kidnapped for then to give birth to a baby and then get killed, he really doesn’t want anything to do with this particular case. So, Derek was fun about 11 percent of the time and dreadful as a dead body the rest of the time. Then there was Peter Hale and Stiles has no idea why anyone thought leaving them alone was a good idea but apparently Melissa and Chris had, collectively, put their feet down and announced that everyone – meaning literally everyone – attending Beacon Hills High school would, well, actually be attending Beacon Hills High school.

 

The first day Peter was sat to watch Stiles they ended up setting fire to the sofa.

 

The next day they accidently blew a hole in the neighbor’s car.

 

The time after that Peter somehow killed a cat but Stiles had nothing to do with that!

 

When they poured one hundred goldfishes into the Mrs. Marion’s expensive, Italian outdoor pool Derek finally declared that in no universe was his uncle allowed to babysit the human. (Stiles thinks it might’ve have something to do with Peter then poisoning the fishes because of some experiment he’d wanted to show Stiles).

 

Anyhow, Stiles was able to deal with watching Derek read for one entire weak before he lost his shit. When he was five weeks pregnant he told his father he’d go back to school. His father had tried to argue that he wasn’t strong enough and that he wouldn’t be safe but it was a lost cause. First of all because Stiles wasn’t going to get any stronger, just the opposite actually, and also because there was no place he was as safe as when surrounded by pack members.

 

So Stiles is back in High School and that should not make him as happy as it does but he needs it – he craves it, actually. Craves some normality, craves some everyday life, craves something that isn’t… darkness and nightmares, pain and fear.

 

He shudders and leans against the car door as he waits for Isaac who comes running out the house with two sandwiches in his hands.

 

“We have to pick up Allison on the way, her car broke down and she can’t make it if she has to walk.”

 

“Sure thing, the Stilinski cap is on its way, now jump in, wolf boy!”

 

They get in, drive to Allison’s and pick up both her and Lydia. On the way to school they talk about Lydia ruining her new dress with blood stains (“where did the blood even come from?” “a sword?” “what were you – I don’t want to know” “no you don’t”) and Isaac failing chemistry if he doesn’t turn in the next paper. They talk about Allison’s dad who refuses to let her redecorate her room although she’s promised she’ll pay for it herself and Lydia throws in some comments about her mom going on about Lydia getting a job. It’s so normal Stiles wants to just throw his head back and laugh.

 

They’re late but it is okay, he thinks, as they scatter around the hallway to their respective classes. Lydia is gone before Isaac has even entered the school and Allison and Stiles only have time to grab their stuff from their lockers and then run to English.

 

He sits through two hours of Charles Dickens and Oliver Twist before he’s finally freed and can escape with his friends. In the hallway they assemble around Stiles’ locker.

 

“So who’s watching me tonight?” he asks as he grabs his History books.

 

“Not me,” Allison says. “Got to talk to my dad.”

 

“Redecorating?”

 

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Scott?”

 

“Nope, I have to practice with Liam and Malia tonight,” the alpha answers. “Kira and Lydia perhaps?”

 

“I think Lydia is going on a date with Aiden?” Allison says as they make their way towards the cafeteria. “Isaac and Kira? Or maybe Ethan?”

 

“If he isn’t too busy sucking off Danny’s face you mean,” Stiles snorts and takes a seat. They’re surrounded by screaming teenagers, laughing girls and shouting boys. Somewhere next to him there is a potential food-fight going on and he defiantly heard the words ‘’weed’’ involved in a least four conversations just on their way to the table.

 

Allison laughs just as Lydia and the twins join them. Ethan looks at him with glowing eyes but Stiles snorts and hits him on the shoulder. This probably hurts Stiles more than the werewolf anyway. The conversation turns into a discussion about clothes and lacrosse practice. Stiles knows that all of them are secretly very busy searching for the other werewolf pack but he’s just grateful they don’t mention it and instead pretend that their lives aren’t anything but natural and normal.

 

After school he drives Lydia and Allison home and takes Isaac to Derek’s. He doesn’t ask any questions because he isn’t sure he can handle the answer. As it turns out Scott did really have the babysitter job so he drags Liam and Malia with him and makes them practice in the back yard. Stiles tags along to watch them screw up.

 

At first it’s just simple stuff like willing their claws and fangs out. Malia is good at this and every time she completes a task she gives Stiles a high five. Liam is a frustrated kid even without the wolf-powers and Stiles is truly a terrible person so he takes special joy in watching the kid struggle with not losing his temper. It’s not that he doesn’t like Liam, maybe just the opposite. He snorts loudly when the younger challenge Malia to a fight. When Malia agrees without hesitation Stiles bites his lower lip to keep his laughter in. This cannot end well, he tells himself as he sits down on the grass, legs cross under him.

 

“Guys,” Scott says diplomatically. “Maybe you should focus on training?”

 

“This _is_ training,” Malia argues. “We have to learn the pup to survive, right? He can’t do that if he can’t protect himself.”

 

Stiles throws his head back and laughs loudly, earning himself a bright smile from the coyote and irritated sigh from the alpha wolf. He doesn’t care, in all honesty.

 

Scott finally agrees and Liam and Malia take positions in front of each other. Stiles is beaming like a child and comes with claps and cheers along the way. Scott rolls his eyes and tells them to try and focus on controlling their anger while they fight. Stiles secretly admires Scott for his good leadership, thinks, vaguely, that Scott would make a good father, too.

 

His hand rests on his stomach without him even noticing it.

 

Then they start fighting. At first it’s mostly just growling and showing fangs. Every time one of them lashes out Stiles will shout encouragements and Scott will tell him to shut up. It goes on for this for a couple of minutes before Malia finally attacks. She gets in a good punch to the ribs and Liam howls loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He kicks out and makes her lose her balance, forcing her down on her back. Stiles can feel the air leaving his lungs immediately.

 

Liam jumps on top of her, trying to hold her down, as he growls and shows his fangs but not ever actually trying to rip her throat out which would probably amaze Scott had he not been too busy with the actual fight. Malia kicks him with her knee and sends him whimpering to his knees. She grabs his shoulder and forces him around, this time on his stomach. She roars and Scott hushes but she’s too busy sitting on Liam’s back, forcing his arm back to hold him in place to listen. And Stiles can’t breathe. He looks at it and there’s this part of his brain that tells him not to overreact, tells him that everyone is worried about him enough as it is, tells him that Liam and Malia would never actually hurt each other – or him. But there’s also this other part of him, this little persistent voice that sounds disturbingly a lot like the leader of the werewolves’ voice. And this voice keeps whispering in his ear, keeps telling him what it’ll do to him if he struggles, tells him to stay down –

 

His palms are sweaty and his body is shivering like he’s freezing. He stumbles to a stand and staggers backwards, away from the scene in front of him. He manages to turn around and he practically falls into the house, where he grabs the kitchen counter and hears his own ragged breathing.

 

Two seconds later he hears Scott’s alpha howl and the sounds outside stops immediately. Another two seconds and then he hears Scott’s concerned voice: “Dude,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Are you – dude, what’s wrong?”

 

Stiles shakes his head violently and bites his teeth not to sob or whimper or anything equally unsatisfying. He knows Scott wants to pull him into a hug or put his hands on Stiles’ shoulder but Scott isn’t sure if it’ll help or make the whole thing worse and to be perfectly honest neither does Stiles. He wants to approach this with logic but he can’t – the fear is too strong for him.

 

After a few more seconds he straightens his back and swallows hard before he turns around. Malia is looking at the floor, Scott has his puppy face on and Liam – well, Liam is mostly confused at what’s going on and he eyes keeps darting between Stiles’ and Scott’s faces like he’ll find some sort of answer there. Stiles just shakes his head again and sits down on of the chairs exhausted.

 

“Dude,” Scott says and falls to his knees in front of him. “What the – what happened?”

 

“Nothing,” Stiles assured him with a somewhat weak voice. “I’m fine, honestly. Just...”

 

“Some bad memories,” Malia says and Stiles looks up and catches her eyes. It’s like he can see himself in her brown pupils, like he knows Malia is thinking about it too, thinking about what Stiles had looked, all vulnerably and wounded.

 

“Yeah, something like that,” Stiles agrees with a mumble. Then he reaches out and puts a hand on his best friend's shoulder. “It’s fine Scotty, honestly.”

 

“Okay,” Scott says although he still looks too concerned. “If you say so.”

 

“I do.”

 

“I still think we should call it for today.”

 

“Fair enough,” Stiles says because that’s probably the best thing for everyone. “Should I drive you home?”

 

“I’ll run,” Malia says immediately and flashes a smile that is almost more fangs than normal human teeth. Stiles snorts but the were-coyote is already out the door.

 

“Wait!” Scott shouts and runs after her, his eyes flashing a bright red. Stiles debates whether to snort again or sigh deeply when he hears Scott catching up to Malia and tackling her onto the ground.

 

“So,” Liam says and Stiles jumps because he’d totally forgotten the beta was even there. They lock eyes and for a second none of them say anything. “What was that all about?”

 

Stiles inhales sharply but doesn’t answer. He knows Scott hasn’t told Liam about the pack being kidnapped. That was before Liam’s time anyway, Scott'd argued, and it wouldn’t make anything easier for Liam, now would it? And no one could argue that although Allison had said he owed it to him as his alpha to tell him everything they’d been through. It had only happened a few weeks before Liam's arrival to the pack, she’d said. Scott had looked at her with his big, brown poppy eyes and she’d sighed in defeat. Of course they couldn’t keep if from him forever.

 

“What was what all about, Liam?” Stiles asks and tilts his head curiously.

 

Liam furrows his eyebrows suspiciously. “That just now, out on the lawn.”

 

“Ah, that would’ve been a fight.”

 

Liam groans frustrated. “You’re annoying, tell me the truth!”

 

Stiles tightens his jaw and looks at the door where neither Malia or Scott have arrived again. He knows Liam should know the truth and he knows he could just tell him. But he’s never actually spoken about it. The pack was there, they very much know what happened. They’d told Melissa and more importantly also the sheriff as well as Peter and Deaton. That just leaved Liam.

 

Stiles opens his mouth but for another split-second he doesn’t say anything, still hopes that Scott will come running into the kitchen. He doesn’t, and so Stiles inhales and begins to speak because he knows how it feels to be the only one left out, knows how it feels when others keep something important from you.

 

“Shortly before Scott turned you on the roof,” Stiles says and he can feels his body grow colder and colder with each passing moment, “we were kidnapped.”

 

“Who are ‘we’?” Liam asks confused.

 

“The pack, all of us. It was another pack. They weren’t as big but they took us by surprise and they – “ He stops for a moment and swallows hard, allows his eyes to dart to his fingers. He concentrates on the way they twist uncomfortably in his lap. “They did some… things to me while we we’re there.”

 

“Oh,” Liam says and not for the first time in the short time Stiles has known him he looks so uncertain, so confused – so young. “What did they do?”

 

Stiles winces, cannot help it, grimaces and shakes his head. “Bad things,” he mumbles.

 

“Bad things we don’t talk about?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Okay,” Liam says and licks his lips, also looking towards the door for Scott. “Does this, um, have anything to do with everyone acting strange around you?”

 

“Strange?” Stiles asks with a frown.

 

“Different,” Liam corrects. ,,Like they’re either terrified of you or terrified for you.”

 

Stiles digs his nails into his palm. “Yeah,” he says. “It probably does.”

 

“Okay,” the beta repeats. “Does it also have something to do with your scent?”

 

“With my what?”

 

“Your scent.”

 

“Have you’ve been smelling me, Liam?”

 

“No!” the boy protests loudly and actually blushes a bit. “It’s just, I can’t help – you smell different than the rest, okay? Less like pack and yet… _more_ like pack. I can’t explain it.”

 

Stiles’ gaze drops to his stomach. He bites his lips uncertainly, lets his fingers touch the fabric of his shirt carefully. “Yeah,” he whispers.  “It does.” He swallows hard and closes his eyes. He hears Scott enter but he doesn’t stop: “I’m pregnant.”

 

There’s something different about telling someone else. It makes it more real in a way, like it’s final for some reason. It makes him feels like he can’t run from it anymore. It scares him but it’s also oddly calming.

 

He hears Liam gasp surprised and he can’t really blame him, and he hears Scott enter completely, telling Liam that he’ll give him a ride home. He also hears Scott grab his phone, probably to call someone to look after Stiles while he’s gone, but Stiles is having none of it.

 

He opens his eyes and gets up without swaying or losing his balance. “I’ll drive you both,” he says and goes towards them. Liam is still too stunned to actually do anything and Scott’s mouth is half open to either protest or question his best friend, but when he finds Stiles’ brown eyes he must see something in them – Stiles guesses it’s determination of some form – because he nods and lets the boy grab his keys and go to the jeep.

 

The drive is terribly awkward but Stiles doesn’t really mind. He’s just happy to be in the car, happy that he’s doing something and not just sitting at home while a supernatural creature of some sort is forced to watch out for him. It takes some of the restlessness away and calms his bones. When they drop Liam off at the corner Stiles is actually smiling.

 

“Dude, are you okay?” Scott asks for the hundredth time.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes. “I had to tell him, you know.”

 

“I should’ve done it!” Scott says.

 

“No.” Stiles shakes his head. “It’s okay. I have to get used to this. It’s not going away.”

 

“No,” Scott mumbles without taking his eyes off  of Stiles. “It’s not.”

 

Stiles looks at him out of the corner of his eyes and all he sees is stress, like Scott is on the verge of just giving up right there and then and crumble. Stiles furrows his eyebrows and grips the steering wheel tighter.

 

“Hey, Scotty,” he says and the other boy hums questioningly. “You know, it’s going to be alright.”

 

“What?” Scott laughs surprised. “Are _you_ cheering _me_ up now?”

 

“Well,” Stiles smirks, “you look like you could use it.”

 

Scott inhales and bites his lips nervously. “Yeah, it’s just… We don’t want you to… regret anything.”

 

Stiles grimaces and clicks his tongue. Scott isn’t looking at him anymore and that is what tells Stiles this has been concerned for quite a while now.

 

“Hey buddy,” he says and turns off the radio. “I won’t, okay? Trust me.”

 

“It’s just,” Scott says and it looks like every word is choking him judging by the horrible face he makes.

 

“Scott,” Stiles interrupts. “Listen to me, okay? It’s not… It’s not like I… Okay how can I say this so this makes any sense? Yeah, okay, just listen – “

 

“Stiles,” Scott is the one to interrupt now. Stiles stops his rambling and looks at his best friend again. “Don’t worry about it,” he says and gives his best smile.

 

Stiles wants to tell him that he’s not the one worrying, he wants to tell him so many things, but suddenly his throat is tight and his palms are sweaty on the wheel. He nods and turns his attention back to the road. Safely back in the Stilinski resident they end up watching Avengers on the couch.

 

Stiles falls asleep halfway through and when he wakes up again it isn’t Scott but Derek who’s sitting at the other end on the couch with his feet in his lap. Stiles can’t help but smile and yawn tiredly. Derek turns his head towards him and Stiles smiles brighter, eye still half closed.

 

“Hey sourwolf,” he says.

 

“Hey,” Derek hums. “Go back to sleep.”

 

“Why?” Stiles whines.

 

“You’re tired, that’s why.”

 

“But – “

 

“I’ll wake you as soon as I feel a nightmare coming, okay?”

 

Stiles doesn’t bother telling him that he will wake up just fine by himself – screaming at the top of his lungs – just nods and yawns again before shutting his eyes close. “Okay,” he mumbles just before he drift off again.

 

He has a peaceful sleep and wakes up in his own bed, Isaac snoring on the floor and Kira with her head resting on his desk. He feels full of energy and well-rested. So of course the first thing he does is throw up all over the floor.

 

Morning sickness: check.

 

That is a thing now, throwing up every now and again, mostly in the morning, but sometimes also as school or in the evening when he’s watching a movie with a random pack member or trying to catch up on some of the homework he has to do.

 

Every time he empties his stomach into the toilet he’s met with a pair of worried eyes from one or more pack members. He always rolls his eyes or gives them the finger before he returns to the toilet, throwing up and making this awful sound as he do so.

 

“Don’t touch me,” he groans weakly when Derek reaches out to put his hand gently on the human’s sweat-soaked shoulder.

 

“I could take some of your pain – “

 

“No,” Stiles groans and attempts at shaking his head. “No, please, just… Give me five more minutes and I’ll be ready, okay?”

 

Derek doesn’t say anything but leaves the bathroom nevertheless. Stiles throws up one more time, spends another four minutes lying on the toilet seat, feeling weak and shaky, before he gets up and makes his way into his room. He collapses on the bed, face buried in the pillow.

 

“Stiles,” Derek says after a while with silence.

 

“Yeah?” he groans into the pillow.

 

“What are these?”

 

“What are – “ He turns around, lift himself up on his elbows and finds Derek sitting on his chair, holding his glass of pills from Deaton. “Oh, those,” he says.

 

“What are they?” Derek frowns, staring at them with great intensity.

 

“Just some pills Deaton gave me,” Stiles shrugs. He really doesn’t want to talk to Derek about his potential heat anytime soon.

 

“For what?” the Sourwolf continues and Stiles sighs deeply before he rolls onto his back, refusing to meet the werewolf’s eyes.

 

“Nothing important,” he lies. “Something about the pregnancy.”

 

“What?”

 

“Derek, why is it – “

 

“I just want to make sure you’re safe,” the wolf says. This makes Stiles stay silent for another long while, he can practically hear his own heart beat loudly in his ears. The pounding almost makes him disorientated.

 

“Well,” he begins. “Deaton said that… He said that my body would, well, go into this, um, heat thing.”

 

His face is burning red when Derek says: “What?”

 

“Don’t make me repeat it,” he begs and closes his eyes shut.

 

“Oh,” Derek says. “You were serious.”

 

“Of course I’m serious this is not joking material!” the human shouts and wishes he had those pills in his own hands so he could throw them at him –

 

“Do they help?”

 

Stiles swallows hard. “Well, I’ve only been through one, haven’t i?”

 

“What do you – oh, the full moon.”

 

“Yeah,” Stiles says, his heart being way too fucking hard in his chest. “Full moon.”

 

After that follows this intense silence where Stiles tries to focus on everything but Derek and the glass of pills in his grip. He especially tries to ignore what those pills are for and what must be going on in Derek’s mind.

 

“The full moon is next week,” Derek says then.

 

“Yep,” Stiles agrees, still not looking at the wolf. “I’ve been pregnant for nearly two months.”

 

Another intense silence and then: “I have to go, Isaac is on his way here. If…” He hesitates and puts the pills down on the table. “If they don’t work, Stiles, and you need some help with anything just give me a call.”

 

He’s out of the room before Sties can’t respond or even wrap his head around what the bloody hell Derek just said. Did he just suggest that he, Derek the great and mighty Sourwolf, could help Stiles out with his heat?

 

He isn’t sure if he’s actually breathing when Isaac opens his bedroom door. The beta pulls a face and looks to the bathroom.

 

“Threw up again?” he asks.

 

Stiles manages a nod and is beyond proud of himself for this.

 

“Ready to go?” Isaac continues, obviously oblivious to the crisis Stiles is having on the bed.

 

Another nod and then Isaac is helping him out of bed, tossing him some clothes to wear as well as a toothbrush. Stiles gets the hint and goes to the bathroom.

 

He stares at his own face in the mirror and frowns. He is pale and sweaty, he’s lost a few pounds at this point, although he’s taken up eating for two. His hair is not in any better shape than the rest of him and his body in general seems to be a bit shaky these days, like he’s always a little low on the energy. He brushes his teeth quickly, puts on the clothes Isaac left on the bed for him and runs downstairs.

 

Isaac and Liam are waiting for him by the front door.

 

“What’s he doing here?” Stiles asks as he grabs his shoes.

 

“I said you’d give him a lift,” Isaac shrugs and throws him his keys. Stiles grabs them midair and frowns again.

 

“Fine, whatever, just get outside – what are you doing?!”

 

Liam is on his knees in front of Stiles, staring at Stiles' stomach with wide eyes and his entire body gone somewhat numb, as he proceeds to just stare at Stiles’ body.

 

“Isaac, what is the puppy doing?” Stiles groans.

 

“How should I know?”

 

“Ask it, then.”

 

“Why me?”

 

“You’re a werewolf, he’s a werewolf, do the math! You speak the same howling language.”

 

“Asshole, I don’t know – “

 

“I can hear it,” Liam interrupts and both Stiles and Isaac look down at him.

 

“Hear what, Liam?” Stiles asks and resists the urge to take a step backwards.

 

“The heart,” Liam says and looks up at Stiles. “The baby’s heartbeat. I can hear it.”

 

“Oh,” Stiles says. And then: “Oh! Oh holy – oh my god!”

 

“Stiles, are you okay?” Isaac asks immediately and puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, ready to grab him if he should faint.

 

“Can you heart it too?” Stiles asks instead of answering.

 

"The baby? Yeah,” Isaac shrugs. “What’s the big deal? Are you okay?”

 

Stiles doesn’t know what to answer, isn’t sure what he’d expected, but certainly not this. He almost feels like putting Isaac’s hands into good use and actually faint. However, he nods repeatedly, tells Liam to get up and goes outside. The two wolves have the decency to give him at moment of privacy as he stands by the jeep and pretends to be annoyed that they haven’t showed up yet.

 

In reality he’s freaking out.

 

Because holy god –

 

It has a heartbeat.

 

This is really happening.

 

There’s a heartbeat.

 

Shit.


	6. Chapter 6

He looks into the mirror and frowns. He’s paler than usual and the sweat is glimpsing on his forehead. The bags under his eyes are so dark blue they’re practically black and his eyes are bloodshot like he’s been crying. He hasn’t, actually, which may come to a surprise for people – like himself. But no, the night has been a shitload of shit still. 

There are two pills left in the glass of the floor, Stiles realizes when he steps back into his bedroom. He sighs heavily and drops down on the floor, his legs a bit shaky. His entire body a bit shaky actually, now that he thinks about it. He groans and rests his forehead against his knees while he draws in quick, rapid breaths of air. 

At least he’s alone.

That takes away some of the cold bitterness he feels. 

He’s alone. 

Well – as alone as one can be when carrying around on a baby-werewolf-mutant. He snorts at himself but it’s dry. He thinks about getting up but his bones are aching and his body is still trembling, his head is throbbing and he feels like throwing up – again. 

It’s a shitty day. 

It’s also the day after the second full moon. 

It is official: he’s gotten through two heats. 

It had been… awful, really, that was the only way to describe it. He’s been through worse, of course, but he’ll still place it pretty high on his list of ‘worst fucking nights in his life’. Maybe a solid five he thinks. Somewhere above getting beaten by Gerard but underneath being paralyzed by a demonic lizard. 

He picks up the almost empty jar of pills and looks at the remaining two. He sighs again. He’ll have to call Deaton and beg for more and that will be not only be shameful but awkward to the point of death as well. He just hopes to every fucking living god creature there may be that Deaton will not ask any questions. 

Not that it matters, really. Stiles doubts that any amount of pills will get him through the next one. The only way he’d gotten through this one alone was by eating a pill every two minute and bite down on his pillows, matrass, sheets, whatever, not to scream out or plead. 

He feels exhausted and tired as he crawls back to the bed. He’s still sweating so he doesn’t pull on the covers, just lays on the bed on his back, half naked and half asleep. He vaguely hears someone knock on his window but he chooses to ignore it. By the time someone slips onto his floor his already fast asleep. 

When he wakes up again Derek is sitting in the chair, watching him carefully. Stiles looks at him with heavy eyelids for a moment or two before he stumbles to a sitting position against the wall. Derek drops the book he’s been reading and stands up slowly. 

,,How are you?” he asks concerned as he steps closer. 

Stiles almost wants to laugh. ,,Fine,” he mumbles, almost on repeat. Then he sighs and runs a hand through his still-wet hair. ,,Been better, been worse, y’know.” 

Derek just nods, doesn’t ask any further questions or come with any comments and Stiles is beyond grateful. So grateful he could fall asleep again…

,,I didn’t tell anyone.”

Stiles forces his eyes open again and blinks confused. ,,What?” he groans. 

,,The pack,” Derek says as a way of explanation. ,,I didn’t tell them why no one was watching you. It’s your private… thing.”

Stiles snorts. ,,Thank you,” he says and then adds thoughtfully: ,,Did no one really watch me? I mean with my dad being at work and everything?”

,,Did you want us to?” Derek asks, but Stiles knows it’s just to keep from answering. 

Stiles shrugs. ,,I just know you guys and I know you wouldn’t leave the human alone for five minutes.”

Derek huffs in confirmation but doesn’t elaborate. Stiles thinks it probably better if he doesn’t know who was forced to listen to him masturbate all night. He’s blushing and biting his lips, only steeling quick glances at Derek, who’s resumed his place in the chair. Yeah, it’s probably for the best. 

,,Stiles?” 

,,What up?”

,,You can go to sleep again if you want to.”

,,You’ll watch over me?”

It’s meant as a joke but it doesn’t sound like it and Stiles blames the grogginess for that. 

,,Yeah,” Derek says without hesitation. ,,I will.”

Stiles can’t help but smile, his eyes already closed, and his body summing with a need for rest. He hums once or twice as a way of letting Derek know he’s going to take his advice and then he drifts off again. 

When he wakes up again Scott has taken Derek’s place at the chair. He’s reading something, probably homework. Stiles glances at the clock that read five in the afternoon. He’s slept the entire day and yet he still feels tired when he sits up. 

,,Hey,” Scott says and closes the book. ,,How are you? Derek told us you weren’t feeling very well today?”

Stiles pulls a face. ,,You sound like a doctor, please don’t, Scotty. And I’m better now.”

,,Are you saying that to make me shut up or are you actually better?”

Stiles sighs and rubs his temples. ,,I’m tired, ‘s all.” 

Scott crocks his head to the side and eyes him suspiciously. ,,Wanna play Mario Kart?” He asks after a few seconds of silence. 

,,Hell yeah!” Stiles shouts. 

And that’s how he spends the rest of his afternoon until Lydia and Malia shows up in the evening and forces him to watch The Notebook and Love Actually. (He didn’t cry, he didn’t, it was just because he was tired and his bones ached!). 

And when he wakes up Isaac is asleep on his floor again. They both pic up Allison and Lydia on their way to school and he spends the time there complaining over the new chemistry teacher, the stupid biology project they have to do and the lack of good food in the cafeteria. He goes through the entire day without throwing up. He sits in the cafeteria with the entire pack. Ethan and Aiden are arguing with Scott about something, Isaac, Lydia and Allison is discussing school work and redecorations, Liam is at the end of the table with his friend (Mason?) and he keeps frowning and glancing at Stiles. Malia and Kira are doing homework and Malia looks like she’s about to have a mental breakdown at the time the bell rings. In general it’s a normal day and no one comments on the fact he was absent the day before. Sometimes he’s very grateful for his pack, he really is. 

His days probably could’ve continued like that for another week or two before he had some minor breakdown or whatever but that was before he started hurting. It’s not like he didn’t hurt before – because he did okay – but suddenly it is on entirely different level. It stings, like someone is piercing his skin with a thousand needles. And his stomach feels like his organs are relocating themselves inside of him. It twists and hurts and sends these shocks of pain through his body that makes him double over and close his eyes shut. 

He wishes he could turns is off, or at least cover it up better so he won’t have to deal with the pack constantly eyeing him, but he honestly can’t. It takes him by surprise every time. Sometimes he even gasps in class or the cafeteria. 

Good thing is he stops throwing up at random hours in the day. He keeps his food inside him – when he eats, which is frequently now. He doesn’t eat at normal hours, he eats when he’s not in pain. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the night, other times he can go through entire days without feeling much pain and then he’ll eat for three. 

It seems to stress the pack out that they can’t actually do anything to help him. They send him to Deaton and he goes – also to ask for more pills – the day after.   
He’s there alone this time and he swings his legs back and forth where he’s situated on the metal table. Deaton arrives after a few moments alone, wearing his usual somewhat distant smile but insanely observant eyes. 

,,Good day, Stiles,” he says. 

,,Doc,” Stiles greets. 

,,How are you?” Deaton asks. 

,,Right now? I’m good right now but I can’t say how I’ll feel in a few minutes.” He shrugs and keeps swinging his legs back and forth. 

,,I suspect the morning sickness is gone?” Deaton continues and Stiles nods. ,,Ah, well, Stilinski, you are entering the second trimester.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows and blinks furiously. ,,Seriously?” he asks surprised. ,,Already?”

,,Yes, I told you this pregnancy would be quicker than normal.”

,,And more painful,” Stiles mumbles under his breath.

,,Yes, and more painful,” Deaton says with a little smile. ,,So I’m just going to check if you, beside the pain, is alright, and if the baby is growing like it should.”

Stiles swallows hard and attempts to nod, though it probably looks more like he shivers. He lies down on the metal table and Deaton is right there, putting his hand on him every so gentle. Stiles shuts his eyes close and tries to pretend he is anywhere else but there. It’s surprisingly easy to imagine that he’s at home, in his own bed, that the gentle fingers aren’t even there. He’s on his own and alone. 

,,You can get up, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton instructs and Stiles follows orders. 

,,So, what will happen to me?” he asks as he twists his fingers and looks at the doctor. 

,,Well,” Deaton says. ,,It will be visible very soon. Not much, but enough that you’ll notice. If you touch your stomach you’ll probably notice how it already feels different underneath your fingertips, feels harder in a way. Most importantly, though, is the pain. I’m afraid it will only get worse from here on.”

Stiles swallows, clenches his fingers to keep himself from touching his stomach and avoids eye contact. ,,So I’ll just have to keep it together?” he mumbles, mostly to himself. 

Deaton doesn’t answer this, just looks at him quietly for a while and Stiles isn’t entirely sure if it’s to give him some space or if it’s because the veterinarian literally has nothing to say to Stiles at this point. The boy thinks this might be a good time to tell him about the pills so he does, without ever making eye contact and stumbling over his words, getting them out in a great hurry. 

Deaton frowns and a frowning Deaton is never a good sign. ,,Well,” he says. ,,I don’t think there’s much I can do. I only have a few pills left and to be perfectly honest I doubt they’ll do you much good at this point, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles inhales sharply although not at all surprised by this piece of information. He swallows and runs his tongue over his teeth absently. ,,Yeah, I figured,” he mumbles and straightens his back to jump off the table again. 

Deaton stands in front of him all of the sudden, looks at him furrowed eyebrows and a very serious look in his eyes. ,,Stiles,” he says, ,,I don’t want you to overdo it, okay?”

Stiles frowns as well now. ,,I won’t,” he promises vaguely. 

,,Good,” Deaton says and takes a step back. ,,And don’t hesitate to call me if there’s anything.”

Stiles just nods and gives the doc a quick smile before he goes for the door. He’s almost surprised to find that no one is waiting for him but also very relieved. He loves the pack endlessly, he really does, but it feels like they’re suffocating him lately. The way they look at him, behave around him, the way they never seem to touch him now unless he’s having a panic attack or throwing up or about to faint, it just kills him sometimes; the reminder that it will never be the same again. Sometimes he can tell himself that it will be back to normal in a few months but then he remember that in a few months he will be a father and – holy god, he’s not going to think about that when driving because he could get to perplexed he’s just crash into a tree and after everything he’s went through he’s not fucking getting killed by mother nature, thank you very fucking much! 

He’s alone for fifteen minutes before Allison and Scott are suddenly standing in his kitchen, smiling and talking like that’s perfectly normal. 

,,Holy – “ Stiles yelps when he almost walks into the girl. ,,Please announce when you’re entering the household,” he grunts to himself. ,,What if I’d had a knife?”

Allison snorts but doesn’t comment otherwise. 

,,Dude, how did it… How did it go?” Scott asks as he pulls out his chemistry book and Allison follows his example.

Stiles shrugs and sits down at the table with his two friends. ,,Deaton said it would only get worse really, so yeah, that’s the fun news of the day.”

When he looks up they’re exchanging these long, suffering glares between one another and then looking at Stiles with brief sadness and pain before they smile halfheartedly. It makes Stiles heart ache to watch and he kinda wants to tell them to knock it off but he can’t because it’s his own fault, he thinks. 

,,Well,” Allison says, ,,guess will just have to do some stuff to make you forget about the pain then, right?”

,,What do you have in mind, Argent?”

,,I’m thinking movie marathon at Derek’s loft. You choose the movies and you can even veto against The Notebook.”

Stiles snorts but can’t help but smirk. ,,You think Lydia would accept my vetoing?”

,,Probably not,” Allison agrees. ,,Worth a try though, right?”

,,For all of us,” Scott joins in. ,,I can’t watch in one more time, Stiles! I’m beginning to understand why Jackson went to London.”

Stiles throws his head back and laughs. It seems to startle his friends a bit but when he catches their eyes he sees legitimate joy in their brown eyes’. It makes Stiles want to laugh even more. 

Instead he tells Allison that she’s an angel. This makes her blush a bit but doesn’t stop Stiles. He tells her he thinks it’s an awesome idea because it really is. More normality, more pack-time that hopefully doesn’t involve tears or panic attack or anything equally un-fun. Actually Stiles proceeds to talk about how great the idea is for the rest of the afternoon until Isaac and Malia drops by. And even then he talks about it and yeah it might just be to distract himself from the sudden pain burning through his body like white, hot flames threatening to consume his body and turn it to lonely ashes, but still. 

Anyway; he keeps talking about it for the next couple of days before the pack-meeting slash movie-night is finally arranged. It didn’t take much convincing and sweet talking to get Derek onboard. Stiles is kinda disappointed and tells the Sourwolf that he’d made this great speech in which he listed the ten awesome reasons why pleasing Stiles should be Derek’s everlasting priorities. The wolf had just snorted very loudly and told the human to try and get some sleep, since he doesn’t get much of that these days. 

His night is a mixture of nightmares and pain and nightmares and a few hours of real rest before more nightmares and more pain. He doesn’t always wake from screaming now, sometimes he’ll start whimpering without even noticing it and then whoever is watching him will gently say his name until he awakes. They’d once tried to wake him by shaking him but that had been… a terribly idea all together so now, if weeping and whimpering sounds are present, they gently pull him from his sleep. Stiles had apologized what felt like a hundredth time to Ethan for breaking his nose and Derek had taken the werewolf aside and asked him if he was totally insane?! 

Stiles had still been shaking badly at the time, Lydia on her knees next to the bed, wearing her usual expression of despair without actually saying anything. Stiles had told them again and again that he was okay, that it wasn’t that he actually thought Ethan would ever hurt him, it had just been a mixture of the pain and the nightmares and the terrible memories still haunting him and yeah, there’d been screaming and there’d been fear and there’d been Stiles begging Ethan to stay away and not touch him, and there’d defiantly been Stiles curling into the corner while breathing uncontrollably but it was over now and he was okay, really, he was. 

Still is, according to himself. He is currently sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep singing along to a Katy Perry song with Isaac’s doing something that can maybe categorized as “singing” in the back seat as well, Derek driving because “what if you suddenly had an outburst of pain and decided to kill yourself by driving straight into a tree or something stupid?” (“dude you are not the only who’ve had that thought, maybe it really is how it’ll all end and how lame is that?”) and Scott talking on the phone with Kira next to Isaac.   
They are the first to arrive at the loft – except for Peter but he doesn’t count – but the rest of the pack arrives within the next ten minutes and suddenly they’re all assembled around the TV shouting and arguing and some of them even making out on the couch. Stiles isn’t currently doing anything other than watching them with a fond smile from the doorway to the kitchen. It’s like something taken straight out from a (weird) family add and he can’t honestly remember the last time they were all together like this without someone being on the verge of death. He isn’t sure they’ve ever actually all been together like this. 

Derek is on the couch, frowning and sending Lydia and Aiden evil glares. Isaac is on the other side growling at them but they don’t stop making out just because of that. On the floor in order are: Malia, Kira, Scott and Allison. Ethan is on a chair with his feet in Isaac’s lap. Even Liam is there though he looks a bit uncomfortable leaned against the wall glaring at the others. Peter has disappeared to wherever it is he goes when no one is looking so it’s just them and Stiles can’t stop staring at them and he feels more than just a little creepy but, holy god, he doesn’t care. 

Suddenly it’s like they realize he isn’t there and Scott, Derek and Kira all turn to look at him and he jolts upright like he’s reminded that he supposed to act, you know, alive. 

,,You okay?” Scott asks. 

,,Sure buddy why wouldn’t I be?” Stiles asks. ,,What are you guys even talking about?”

,,Lydia wants to watch the Notebook again,” Allison throws in with a frown. 

,,Lydia no,” Stiles says and walks over to join them. He thinks about squeezing down between Lydia and Derek but then he thinks better of it, knowing that he sometimes gets these random fits of panic where he needs to be places where no one is actually physically touching him and that might be a bit hard with a werewolf on his left and a banshee of his right. Instead he sits down next to Liam, two feet between them, and glares at the strawberry blonde. 

,,Lydia yes,” she says and smirks. 

And of course she gets it her way, it’s Lydia we’re talking about. 

Halfway through they make a game out of who can tell the next line. They are all terrifyingly good at it, even Liam. And Stiles isn’t sure if that says more about how often Lydia forces them to watch the Notebook or about what the boy was doing before he joined the Beacon Hills comminute of Supernatural Creatures and Odd often Terrible Things (that might want to try and eat you). SCOTT for short and isn’t that just wonderful? Stiles thinks it’s wonderful. 

What isn’t so wonderful is the surging pain he feel in his stomach. It’s increasing and it’s also very, very persistent and hard to ignore. He clutches forward until his sweaty palms are on the floor. He bites his teeth until his jaw line is tight and then he focuses on breathing in through his nose. He tries to be subtle about the whole thing but probably fails miserably.

,,S-Stiles?” Liam stutters next to him. ,,Are you okay?”

,,Fine,” he gasps and shuts his eyes close. 

,,Stiles!” he hears Derek shout then, closely followed by Isaac yelling if he’s okay and getting up from the sofa. Stiles just nods and tries not to make any unnecessarily sounds of pain that might freak the pack out more than they already are. 

And he hates himself for doing this, for ruining this otherwise perfect moment, for reminding them of what they’re all trying to forget! God, he just wants it all to go away, for all of it to have been a bad dream, for his reality to be different for maybe just an hour or two and then this happens and he’s almost crying right there on Derek’s floor and he feels pathetic and weak. 

Someone sits down in front of him but doesn’t reach out to touch him. ,,Stiles?” Scott whispers. ,,Are you… Are you okay?”

Stiles manages a snort and gives himself some credit for that. ,,Yeah, just give me – ugh, just give me a minute,” he says as he inhales sharply a couple of times in an attempt to feed his starving lungs and control his trembling hands. 

The whole room falls silent and someone even shuts off the DVD. Stiles wants to tell them to continue, to ignore him, to maybe just pretend like he isn’t there, but he’s too focused on anything else to actually speak in that very moment. When he accidently whimpers and falls forward a bit he feels strong fingers on his arm. He doesn’t stiffen or pulls away and Scott doesn’t take his hand away. Instead he – he takes Stiles pain away. The human can feel how some of it slowly leave his body. It reminds him of waves pulling back for some reason. But for the most part it’s indescribably. 

He hears Scott gasp and gurgle like he’s drowning and Stiles pulls away until his back hits the wall again. He looks at his best friend wide-eyed. ,,You don’t have to do that,” Stiles mumbles. ,,I can handle – “

,,Shut up and let me do this, please?” Scott pleads and leans towards him again. 

,,Wait, let me,” Derek interrupts and stands up. ,,No need to overdo it Scott.” 

Stiles doesn’t even protest when Scott nods and leaves to make room for Derek to sit where Scott sat. And when Isaac finally moves from where he was more or less paralyzed to also sit in front of Stiles the human is mostly too stunned to argue. They both reach towards him and he has to close his eyes to force the images away from his brain. 

Just when they touch him he can’t help but shiver badly but then immediately after, the pain… the pain disappears slowly, just like before. And Stiles allows himself to gasp for air when he can suddenly breathe again. He opens his eyes abruptly and looks at the two werewolves and their black veins and he’s not frightened. He’s in awe, just staring at them with his mouth half open as they take more and more and more… 

Until Isaac begins to whimper and Derek has to close his eyes and bite down on his lower lip. Stiles takes a deep breath and when he speaks his voice is hoarse. 

,,Enough.”

,,Stiles, we can still – “

,,Isaac, it’s enough.”

They both pull away and Stiles doesn’t miss the glimpse of relieve that flashes over their faces when they’re more or less pain-free again. Stiles feels a smile tug in the corner of his mouth. But he also suddenly feels very, very tired. 

,,What was that?” Liam whispers, just as much is awe as Stiles as he stares from Stiles to Isaac, Derek and then his alpha; Scott. ,,Can I… Can I also do that?”

Stiles, with his eye’s half closed, snorts and nods. ,,Some other time perhaps,” he mumbles. 

,,Maybe we should make room for you on the couch,” Derek says amused and Stiles doesn’t really attempt to protest when gentle hands guides him to the sofa and places him there. He feels a pang of guilt at the thought that the other four now has nowhere to sit but he’s too goddamn grateful that he won’t have to panic over feeling actually skin contact while he sleeps to say anything. 

He closes his eyes completely, yawns tiredly but also pleased, before he drifts off, now no pain in his blood and hopefully also no nightmares given the fact that he is literally surrounded by pack members and safer than he’s been in years probably. 

As he begins to really fall asleep he catches parts of a conversations: 

,,It was horrible,” someone – he thinks it is Isaac – whispers. 

,,There was so much pain,” Scott, probably, joins in. 

,,Is it always like that?” 

,,I think so, I don’t really know.”

,,He should talk to Deaton.”

,,He already has but he can’t help him anymore.”

,,So… we’re just going to have to wait?”

He can’t tell who is who at this point, can barely tell the girls from the males. 

,,Yeah, and hope that he – “ 

,,Makes it? Granted he isn’t kidnapped by the Leonard’s pack of werewolves first, of course.”

The rather harsh but also very true comment is followed by an unpleasantly intense silence in which Stiles drifts, drifts, and drifts further away. 

Just before be finally lets go completely he hears: ,,We’ll just have to kill them first, won’t we?” 

He thinks he smiles when he finally falls asleep, it would make sense anyway. He doesn’t wake up with a smile however. He wakes up the sound of his own whimper and someone gently hushing him and repeating his name over and over again like a silent prayer. 

He opens his eyes and breathes desperately as he locks eyes with Derek. The wolf smiles when he sees that Stiles is finally awake and reaches out slowly, as if to ask permission, and Stiles just nods and feels Derek’s hand on his shoulder, his neck, his back. 

,,You’re okay, Stiles,” the werewolf tells him over and over again. ,,We are not going to let anything hurt you, okay?”

Stiles just blinks a couple of times while never looking away from Derek’s mesmerizing dark eyes. ,,Okay,” he says when Derek rubs gentle circles on his back. ,,Okay.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize in advantage for the amount of angst in this chapter.

It’s visible now. Not like insanely obvious, but still very, very visibly. He has a baby bump indicating that he is, indeed, pregnant - as in expecting a child. 

Stiles stands in front of his mirror for a very long time that morning just staring at it. It’s not like he woke up and then it was just there, this isn’t twilight, but still, it happened very fast and very all of the sudden. Deaton had warned him that in the following weeks it would really begin to take shape and become a reality, everything would happen faster, but even with those words Stiles hadn’t had any way of preparing himself for… for this. 

He closes his eyes and leans his head against the cold mirror. Somewhere on the other side of the door he can hear Malia and Lydia arguing over homework. He isn’t ready to face them just yet so he turns around and slides down the bathroom door, pulls his legs up, wraps his arms around them and hides his head against his knees. He isn’t going to cry because there’s no reason to do so, he tells himself. He’s just overreacting because suddenly everything is very, very visibly but he just needs to not do that, to not freak out. 

He is in there for a long time because Lydia knocks the door and asks if he’s alive. He tells her he is, that he just needs a moment. Malia is there and she starts asking all these questions until Lydia tells her to shut up and get back to studying. Malia growls at Lydia then but the banshee just snorts and makes some comment about wild life versus acceptable society and Malia mumbles something about how this can hardly be considered an acceptable society with all those mythological creatures just running around and Lydia has to agree on that. 

They leave him alone and that’s the main point. He’s left to his own, in his steamy bathroom, naked and shivering but still telling himself that he is okay. And maybe, as long as he can tell himself that, over and over again, it will be the truth. 

Eventually he gets up and wraps a towel around himself. He walks out of the door and sees Derek and Isaac sitting on his bed talking about something. Isaac keeps rolling his eyes and Derek keeps giving the other boy these long, irritated look like he’s thinking about ripping the beta’s throat out with his teeth. Stiles snickers to himself and they both turn to look at him in the doorway. 

He’s about to say something when their eyes dart downwards to his stomach. They both stare a little too long at his not entirely flat stomach before their eyes flickers up to meet his. He bites his lips and decides not to say anything at all. Instead he walks in, grabs his jeans and a t-shirt and then disappears into the bathroom again. When he comes out for the second time they’re smiling innocently but Stiles rolls his eyes and ignores them. 

,,How are you today?” Derek asks. 

,,Still pregnant,” Stiles mumbles and sits down on his chair. 

,,Well,” Isaac says unsurely. ,,That’s… good, right?”

Derek glares him at him and shakes his head slowly. Isaac pulls a face and then they both turn back to Stiles, who’s looking at his hands. 

,,Stiles?” Derek begins as he stands up. ,,Are you – “

,,I’m fine!” he snarls. ,,Look,” he continues without looking at them, ,,can’t you just leave me alone?”

They both stiffen like he physically slapped them but Stiles ignores it. ,,We can’t – “ 

,,My dad’s home,” Stiles interrupts Isaac, still not looking at them. ,,He’ll watch out for me. I just… I need a few hours alone. Please? Can you give me that much?”

Isaac and Derek share a quick glance before the former alpha nods. ,,Sure,” he says slowly. ,,We can give you that, Stiles.”

,,Thanks,” Stiles mumbles, still not looking at them. 

There’s a short but very intense moment of silence before Isaac inhales and clears his throat awkwardly. ,,So,” he says. ,,I’ll go downstairs. Derek?” 

,,Give me two minutes,” the other werewolf says. Isaac shrugs and leaves the room through the open window. Stiles watches him disappear. 

,,Stiles,” Derek begins as soon as they’re alone. ,,Look, I know none of this is easy – “

,,How,” Stiles practically growls and finally meet the other man’s eyes. ,,How would you know anything?”

Derek flinches back but quickly recovers. ,,You’re right,” he says. ,,I know shit about how you feel right now, but – “

,,But what?” Stiles says and gets up. He bites his teeth and places his hand carefully of the stomach. ,,Look, I’m not angry I just want a few hours alone.” He sounds so goddamn tired all of the sudden and it breaks Derek’s heart into a million little pieces. He nods and swallows hard. 

,,Okay,” he finally says. ,,If you want to talk call me. Or Scott. Or Isaac or anyone really, we’ll listen, you know we will.”

Stiles actually smiles though it’s small. ,,I know,” he whispers. 

Derek stands still for another second or two before he follows Isaac out of the window. When they’re both out Stiles closes the window and walks over to his bed. He waits until he’s sure they can’t hear him and then he buries his head in the pillow and screams. 

He screams for a solid ten minutes before his father opens the door and starts shouting his name panicked. When he sees Stiles on his stomach, face hidden and body trembling he swallows a sigh and pulls the chair over to sit next to him. 

,,Son,” he says. ,,What’s the matter?”

,,Nothing,” he mumbles. ,,I just needed space, felt like I was suffocating.”

The sheriff licks his lips uncertainly but nods. ,,Okay,” he says. ,,Well, you’ll shout if you need anything right?”

,,Sure,” Stiles mumbles. ,,Thank you.”

,,Anytime, son, anytime.” 

And then Stiles I finally alone again. 

He lies in his bed for another forty minutes before he starts freaking out. 

He can’t do this.

He can’t be a father. 

He can’t have a son or a daughter. 

He’s still just a child, he can’t take care of anyone.

He can’t even take care of himself. 

He doesn’t notice he’s crying until he starts choking on the sobs. Then he rolls over so he’s on his back and covers his face with his arm. He bites down on his lip until it bleeds but it keeps the sobs from suffocating him. He can feel his face getting wet, he can feel his nails digging into his palms painfully. He can feel his stomach hurt like he’s having cramps. He can remember hands on his body and a warm breath on his neck. He remembers everything and he’s not fine at all, he’s broken and horrible bend. And he’s pregnant and it should be a joke because he can’t fucking take care of a child when he’s like this. What if… what if he won’t love it? What if he’ll hate it, what if he’ll be a horrible father, what if – 

He sits up and grabs the pillow to muffle his screams again. This time his father either doesn’t hear him or allows him a moment to collect himself because he doesn’t come running in like before. Stiles doesn’t know if he’s grateful or terrified. He just tries to calm himself down by focusing on his own breathing. He would focus on his own heartbeat but he can neither hear it nor feel it, so bad are his fingers trembling. 

He’s a broken boy. 

He’s a broken, pregnant boy. 

He’s a broken, pregnant boy being hunted by a pack of werewolves. 

He remembers that whoever had called it ‘Leonard’s pack of werewolf’. That is the leader’s name. Leonard. Somehow it’s a thousand times worse now that he knows the name, it makes everything all the more terrible. 

Even if the pack manages to kill the other pack before they get to Stiles what will happen to him? Will he be a father to a child that he’ll never love? What if… what if he’s a terrible father? What if he ruins this kid’s life forever? 

,,Son? Do you want something to eat?” His father asks suddenly, Stiles hand't even heard home come in. 

It takes some time before he’s able to answer. ,,No thanks,” he croaks out. ,,Just… I really just want to sleep right now, is that okay?”

,,Sure,” the sheriff says. ,,I’ll let you sleep then, son.”

,,Thanks.”

He doesn’t sleep, though. He lies awake hour after hour, just staring at the ceiling and trying very hard not to thinks about anything at all. Because as soon as he does he goes into this horrible spiral of self-destructive thoughts that will never give him anything but tears and panic attacks. 

He gets through the night and not a single pack member has shown up or knocked on his window. He’s thankful, he really is, but he’s also… empty. He’s gotten so used to never being alone and all of the sudden there are no one around to distract him. He almost misses their glares of sympathy and their awkward back-patting. 

He can’t face them right now, however. He can’t face anyone without turning into a bawling mess, he thinks. So he stays indoors, in his own room, staring up at the ceiling for another hour or two. His father knocks on the door at noon to ask if he’s okay. Stiles just shrugs and tells him he’s fine, just tired. The sheriff asks if he’s pain and of course he is so he finds some aspirin and a glass of water. Then his father tells him he’s called in sick so that Stiles won’t have to face anyone from the pack just yet. Afterwards he leaves the room, once again telling Stiles to shout if he needs anything. 

He doesn’t shout, doesn’t do anything really. Just lies there, wondering if he can maybe be as good a father as the sheriff is. He wants to be, he really, really does. He wants to give this child everything because already, just barely three months old, it’s had a horrible start at life and he wants to protect it and wrap it in endless love but he isn’t sure he can do that. And he can’t run away from this anymore. Every time he gets up to go to the bathroom he looks down and sees it; he sees the changes, he feels it in his body every waken moment. The werewolves can hear its heartbeat. This is real; this is not something he can run away from. This is not another one of those “problems” he can ignore until they eventually go away. But what if he wants it to be? What if all he’ll ever see the child as is a problem he can’t fix? 

The sheriff comes in with a bowl of tomato soup around five, tells Stiles to eat something. The boy sits with the warm bowl in his cold lap and stares straight ahead. He’s pretty certain his father is watching him but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s being horrible to the people protecting and taking care of him and he wants to apologize until his lips start bleeding and his tongue hurts but he doesn’t. 

Eventually he forces a couple of spoonfuls of soup indoors before he sighs, tells his father his full and lies down on the bed again. The sheriff just nods and disappears. Stiles can feel the tears stinging his eyes as soon as the door closes. 

After a few minutes he can hear his father talking to someone on the phone. Stiles is obviously not meant to hear judging by the murmurs, but the boy still gets up slowly and opens the door ajar. He can hear his dad’s whispering tone from somewhere downstairs: 

,,I’m worried about him, he hasn’t eaten anything in a while.”

Stiles swallows hard. 

,,Maybe… Maybe there’s something wrong? Maybe with the baby?”

He inhales sharply and grabs the door handle not to fall. 

,,Well, I don’t – I don’t know what to do.”

Stiles closes his eyes and holds his breath. 

,,Can… can you help me? I’m terrified he – well, what am I supposed to do then?”

Stiles takes a step back and closes the door silently again. He slides down it and hides his face in his hands. His entire body is shaking when he starts crying. It isn’t subtle, it isn’t silent and it isn’t in anyway controlled. It’s hard, choking, full on and without breaks. 

He crawls forward, curls himself into a ball on the floor and closes his eyes. He feels pathetic but he doesn’t care at this point. He wants to scream but his throat is dry and hurts already. He doesn’t know what to do and it kills him slowly. When his father comes to check up on him a little later he’s fallen asleep. The sheriff watches his son for a very long time before he sighs, grabs the covers and puts them over him. He leaves the door open that night and the following morning he’s woken up by his son screaming at the top of his lunges. 

,,Stiles!” the sheriff shouts. ,,Stiles? Stiles, it’s okay – shhh, son, it’s okay,” he hushes, crushing down next to the kicking and screaming body. He doesn’t touch him, just hushes and tells him it’s okay, that he’ll never again let anyone hurt him, ever. 

When Stiles finally awakes and scrambles to his feet he’s met with his father blue, wet eyes. He chokes and coughs and looks down. 

,,Son,” the sheriff whispers. ,,Please tell me what’s going on.”

,,What’s going on?” Stiles asks. 

,,Well, I know… I know what’s going on, but – you were okay, Stiles. You were better.”

And he wasn’t, really. He had a façade, a smiling face and a loud laughter but he was never any better than he is now. 

,,I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbles and sits down on the edge of the bed. 

,,Why are you apologizing?” the sheriff asks and sits down next to him. 

Stiles twists his fingers and swallows hard several times. ,,Because I’ll be a terrible parent,” he says so lowly the sheriff can’t possible hear. 

,,What was that?” he asks gently. 

Sties shuts his eyes close. ,,I can’t… I can’t take care of anyone dad. I can’t take care of a child.” 

The sheriff stiffens next to his son before he exhales and places his hand on the boy’s shoulder. ,,Stiles – “

,,What if… what if I was wrong, dad?” he looks at his father with endless sorrow and pain in his golden eyes. The sheriff never wanted to see his son like this, with so much horror in his glare. ,,What if can’t love it?”

The sheriff doesn’t know what to say next because he hadn’t prepared himself for this. 

,,What if,” Stiles continues, ,,I made a mistake keeping it? it’s too late to change it now, I can’t get an abortion now, but… But what if when I have it all I’ll see is… are those monsters?” His voice breaks and he sobs brokenly. The sheriff inhales and gives the shoulder a squeeze. ,,What if I can’t love it and I’ll ruin it – he or she’s – life forever because I can’t forgive a child for something it didn’t even do? What if – what if – “

,,Shh, son, breathe with me. Come one, focus on my breathing.” The sheriff takes in deep, controlled breaths and Stiles does the same. ,,Good,” the sheriff praises. ,,Now, what is all this about? Where did these thoughts come from?”

,,Realization,” Stiles mumbles and leans into the touch.   
The sheriff gets the hint and puts an arm around his son to pull him into a hug. ,,What realization?”

,,The realization that I’ll be a father. I’ll be eighteen years old and a father to a child that – and that’s if I survive all of this, that's if no one gets to me first and – “

,,Stiles,” the sheriff interrupts. ,,Look at me,” and he does. ,,Good, now listen to what I’m saying: I’ll not pretend that I know what you’re going through, because I don’t, I really don’t. But I know what it means to be a father, I know what it means to be terrified that you won’t be good enough or strong enough. I know that, so did your mother, she felt the same. But we had each other and we told each other it would be okay. And you have me, and you have the pack. And if, when you have the child, you feel in your heart you can’t give it the love it deserves we’ll figure something out, okay?”

,,Like what?” Stiles whimpers. 

,,We’ll find someone who’ll want it, I promise. We’ll find a pack who’ll love the child even if – “

,,Even if I can’t,” Stiles says harshly. 

,,Son,” the sheriff says. ,,No one will blame you, you do understand that?” 

,,You don’t get it,” Stiles whispers. ,,The pack, it’s not the same for them.”

The sheriff sighs. ,,I know,” he mumbles. ,,But remember when you talked to Deaton? Remember when you talked about abortion? The pack, they told you that no matter what they’d support you, right?”

,,But – “

,,No, son, listen to me. Yes, the child might be pack but so are you. We’ll figure something out, I promise you. And I might not know what it’s like to be a werewolf or part of a pack but I know what it’s like to be a father and I promise you that we’ll find the best solution. For you and the baby. Can you trust me on this one?”

Stiles looks at his father then, and the determination and love he sees reflected in those eyes takes his breath away for a moment. He nods and says: ,,Yes, I trust you.” And he does. He trust his father, he’s never trusted anyway more than he trust his father. 

,,Good,” the sheriff smiles and wraps his arms tighter around his son. ,,Good. And, you know, maybe we can ask that pack in London that took in Jackson?"

The sheriff smirks knowingly and Stiles grimaces. ,,I'll never let an offspring of mine live what that jackass," he informs. 

,,Language," the sheiff says, smiling widely. 

Stiles sinks into the embrace and loves the feeling of his father’s rabbis heartbeat. 

He eats some more soup and then he goes to sleep. He sleeps with the door entirely open and so does the sheriff. When Stiles startles awake in the middle of the night he can hear his father’s light snore and it calms him down. He smirks when he closes his eyes again and falls asleep. 

The following morning he stays home and so does his father. They watch movies and eats candy and Stiles never once complain about his father’s health. And whenever Stiles is overpowered with pain his father will tell him to simply lie down on the couch while he finds some more aspirin. Stiles doesn’t tell him they don’t really help, just smiles and thanks him and swallows any whimper or cry that might otherwise escape him.

In the evening his father gets called to work. 

,,It’s okay,” Stiles assures him. ,,I’ll get someone from the pack to get over.”

,,You sure you want to see them yet?”

,,I’m sure,” Stiles tells him. ,,Now go, I’ll be fine.”

And even though he looks doubtful, he follows order. Stiles sits alone for thirty minutes before calls Scott and Derek. They both arrive ten minutes later. 

They look at him questioning and uncertainty, like they aren’t sure how to approach him all of the sudden. Stiles sighs and sits back down on the couch. 

,,Come on,” he tells them and pats the space next to him. ,,Sit puppies.”

Derek snorts and Scott rolls his eyes but they sits down on the couch. After a few awkward minutes Stiles inhales and says: ,,Look, I’m sorry for, you know, not telling you guys what was going on.”

,,It’s okay – “ Derek begins. 

,,We were really worried,” Scott says and looks at his best friend seriously. 

Stiles feels the guilt way him down but he knows he deserves it. He nods. ,,I was an asshole.”

,,No, you weren’t,” Scott argues, ,,but it would’ve been nice if you, you know, you’d have told us what was going on. We were terrified something had happened, that you’d had some sort of breakdown – “

,,Scott,” Derek growls. 

,,No,” Stiles interrupts and licks his lips. ,,I know, Scotty, and I’m really sorry.”

Scott still looks wary but he nods. ,,What happened?”

,,A breakdown,” Stiles says with a small smile. ,,But I’m better now, I think I just needed some freaking out time and a father son talk. I’m better. I’m still not, you know, okay, I don’t honestly know if I’ll ever really be okay again, but… yeah, I’m better.”

The werewolves both look at him for what feels like hours. Then Derek smiles – actually smiles – bright and say: ,,As long as you’re better.”

,,Hey man,” Scott says and tilts his head, ,,I love you.”

Stiles laughs at this and says: ,,I love you too, man. I really do.”

They end up watching the Avengers. Stiles and Scott argues over who’s a better superhero while Derek frowns and tells them they’re both children. They decide to punish him by throwing popcorns at him until he promises them both long, suffering deaths if they don’t stop right this moment. 

Stiles just snorts and throws another handful. ,,You could never kill me,” he announces. ,,You love me too much.”

Derek snorts but doesn’t comment and Stiles considers that a win. At midnight Lydia, Allison and Isaac arrive. They also look uncertain and unsure when they step in and Stiles proceeds to apologies to them as well. 

,,Accepted,” Allison tells him immediately. 

Lydia looks at him like she’s seriously considering it but then she sighs. ,,Fine, whatever, just don’t do it again, dickhead.”

,,I won’t,” he promises with a smile. 

Isaac tells him he’s a big asshole and Stiles has to agree on that. In the end, though, Stiles fall asleep with his head in Isaac’s lap and the werewolf’s fingers in his hair so he guesses that means that the wolf has forgiven him too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terrible at writing smut but... yeah, well it had to happen

,,Have you ever noticed how the entire world turns an odd redly color when the sun is going down?”

,,Are you drunk?”

,,Of course I’m not drunk, Liam, I’m pregnant.”

The other werewolf looks at him out of the corner of his eyes uncertainly before his eyes darts back to the TV-screen. Stiles isn’t very focused on the movie, though, and his eyes keeps flickering to the open window. The world really does seems somewhat redder than it did a few hours ago, is looks like blood is slowly spilling from the sky and down to earth. Stiles cannot help but shudder and Kira looks at him with furrowed eyebrows. 

,,Are you okay?” she asks in her loud, light tone. 

,,Sure,” he says and it is not even a lie; he is okay. His body doesn’t hurt significantly right now, he isn’t heavily sedated or insanely tired, he isn’t hunted by terrible images and frightening memories. He is watching a movie with Liam and Kira before Scott comes over to probably play Mario Kart or something and it’s generally a very good day, he is actually okay for once. 

And when Scott joins them at ten in the evening Liam and Kira – Scott’s personal fan club and ambassadors at the before mentioned SCOTT – stay for a little while. They sit in the kitchen and Stiles makes them sandwiches – one for others and three for him. 

,,You can’t possible eat all those,” Liam tells him when Stiles sits down at the table with them. The other boy just gives him a ‘look’ before he grabs the first sandwich. As it turns out Stiles is able to eat two sandwiches before Liam is through with his first one. The human snorts satisfied and smirks proudly. 

,,This,” he says and puts a hand on his stomach, ,,has it perks. I get to eat for two and since that’s what I always do this means I technically gets to eat for three – “

He stops abruptly when the supernatural creatures suddenly turn their attention towards the front door. Stiles can feel his heart rate pick up immediately but he tries to stay calm as he whispers: ,,What is it?”

Scott inhales sharply but then he relaxes somewhat although his shoulders doesn’t entirely lose their stiff posture. Stiles tries not to take that as a bad sign. It’s Kira, however, who says: ,,It’s Derek, isn’t it?”

They exchange glances, knowing glances, the two of them; Stiles swallows several deep sighs and tries to look at Liam to share glances as well but the boy is currently just staring at the door. It makes Stiles uneasy – more uneasy than he was just five minutes ago when he was eating sandwiches, he thinks he’d maybe kinda like to go back to the sandwich eating instead of just staring at the goddamn door – 

The door opens and Derek, Isaac as well as the twins enters. They look somewhat tired and worn out but otherwise fine. Isaac yawns loudly but smiles at Stiles and Scott when he sees them in the kitchen. Scott’s shoulders, however, doesn’t loosen the tension and Stiles feels a lump forming in his throat. 

,,Scott, I need to talk to you,” Derek says. 

,,Yes,” Scott agrees immediately. ,,Isaac, can you – “

,,Sure, I’ll wait with Stiles till you get back,” the beta says and goes towards the human, who’s still just standing there, looking at the tense werewolves. 

Liam is looking at Scott like he’s about to say something, but then he glances to the twins and obviously holds it in. Aiden and Ethan stands awkwardly in the hallway while Scott and Derek head outside. Isaac takes a seat around the table and Kira and Stiles follows. After a few minutes even Liam sits down. Stiles gives his last sandwich to Isaac and no one says a word. After hours – maybe ten minutes – the two werewolves return. Scott is frowning, Stiles can tell, and it’s not a good sign. 

,,We’re headed out again,” Derek informs. He catches Stiles eye briefly, but he doesn’t actually say anything to him, just hold his eyes for a while before he opens the door and disappears. Isaac sighs and looks like he’s about to argue but then Scott gives him his ‘’alpha-look’’ and the boy follows suit. Kira and Liam decides to leave as well and then suddenly it’s just Stiles and Scott.

Stiles licks his dry lips. ,,Do I want to know?” he mumbles. 

Scott takes a few deep breaths and then he says: ,,We are trying to find them, at the moment, and Derek – “  
,,Wait, Scott,” Stiles interrupts. ,,I trust you guys. My dad, he, you know the day I had my, uh, breakdown or whatever, my dad he told me to trust him. Because, like, he’s my father and he knows what it’s like to be a father and there’s just no arguing with the Stilinski logic, is there? Anyway, I trust you too.”

Scott smirks. ,,Because I’m your alpha.”

,,Because you’re my best friend,” stiles corrects without missing a beat. Scott’s smirk turns into a wide smile. 

,,Good, Stiles, because we’re gonna catch them.”

,,You sound like that crappy cop TV series, what the hell is the name? You know, the one with the dog?”

,,Are you comparing me to a dog from a crappy cop TV series?”

,,Actually I was comparing you to the cop from the crappy cop TV series but now that you mention the dog I do see some resemblance, actually.”

Scott rolls his eyes. ,,Very funny,” he comments dryly. ,,Hey, want to play some Mario Kart?”

,,I hear ya, buddy, loud and fucking clear.”

They play Mario Kart until around two and then Stiles cramps and stomach aches starts driving him middle insane and he has to go lay down on the couch. Scott sits next to him on the floor with his hand on the coffee table like he is ready to grab Stiles' any minute and take some of the pain away. 

,,Hey, bud, I think I might fall asleep,” Stiles yawns. 

Scott laughs. ,,I can tell.”

,,Sorry if I have any, you know, nightmares or shit,” he mumbles only vaguely awake at this point. 

,,It’s okay, I have nightmares too.”

This, however, stirs him awake and he opens his eyes wide open and stares at his best friend next to him of the floor for a long while without saying anything. ,,Scott?” he finally chokes out. 

,,You were dead,” Scott says without looking up at the other boy. His low, broken voice makes it feel like someone is stabbing Stiles' heart and it is ten times worse than any physical pain he’s ever felt. ,,I thought,” he corrects, ,,you were dead. We thought you were going to die.”

,,I’m sorry,” Stiles whispers. 

,,It’s not your fault,” Scott says, still not looking at him. ,,It’s just – when you closed your eyes, Stiles, when you said ‘it’s okay’ I thought that meant – I mean, it’s what Boyd said when Derek, you know, and I just thought – Jesus, I thought you were going to die. I thought you were essential gone. And then they took you to this hospital and I couldn’t go in and see you, no one could. We were all standing out in the hallway, most of us covered in blood and then Argent pulled us aside one by one to get out story straight but I – It was so fucking hard because I still thought maybe you weren’t going to make it. I was so terrified, I thought ‘he was right, we are just a bunch of teenagers, we can’t handle this’ and… No matter how many times Argent told the story I couldn’t get I quite right so eventually he gave up. We waited for four days before they told us you were going to make it and then… I don’t know, it was so surreal because then they told us you might never wake up and… I promise I wouldn’t have told your father about the, um, abuse, what they did to you, if it hadn’t been really – when we found you were pregnant it scared the living shit out of all of us, Stiles. We were so terrified all the time. That you would die, that you wouldn’t wake up, that you would lose it when you finally woke up again. And it still wake up bathed in sweat sometimes, still able to feel your limp body in my arms because… Sometimes it feels like you died in my arms, Stiles. And I look at you, sitting in the cafeteria or in the jeep and I see you alive and… god, I’m rambling. Sorry, dude.”

Stiles is too stunned to say anything. There are no words he can form right there and then, no words he can say to his friend, that can in any way describe anything of what he’s feeling at that moment. He feels… everything and also nothing and it’s a strange thing to do, but… He can’t really talk and that is very rare for Stiles Stilinski to be stunned into silence for this long. 

No one has ever told him about when he was out and no one has ever talked about what had happened when he fainted. Everyone worked around it, really, only talked about what was strictly necessarily. They hardly ever mentiones the abuse or the rape or anything of what had happened and they’d never said anything like what Scott just told him. His father, when he’d woken up, had told him he’d thought Stiles was going to die and that statement had really frightened Stiles. But this, what Scott just told him, it makes him feel… He can’t honestly explain it. 

He wraps his arm around his best friend. It’s an awkward position they’re sitting in and it’s an awkward hug but they don’t care. Stiles hugs like he wants to break bones and Scott hugs like he can force the nightmares away by creating better dreams. It is all lies, but such beautiful lies that no one really cares. 

,,I had no idea,” Stiles finally gets out because he hadn’t had. 

,,It not your fault,” Scott assures him. 

,,I know that but it still doesn’t… I’ve been too trapped in my own misery to ask about – “ 

,,Mine?” Scott jokes. 

,,Yeah, something like that,” Stiles says and they still haven’t let go. 

,,Stiles, I’m fine. We are all fine. We are good.”

Stiles doesn’t answer, just tightens the embrace and thanks the gods for super extra strong werewolf’s bones because otherwise he probably couldn’t have guaranteed a super duper body delivered back afterwards. 

When they do finally pull away Stiles pretends not to notice the tears shimmering in Scott’s eyes. Instead he swallows hard and falls back down on the couch. 

,,Scott,” he asks after a few minutes. ,,The werewolves, the other pack I mean, are you… Are you seriously close to catching them or is it just something you say to calm me down?”

,,We are closer,” he says. ,,We’ve figured out that they are some sort of informational pack.”

,,Meaning what?” 

,,That they get information about other packs, such as ours, and use it. They’ll maybe sell it to hunters or use it when they need to negotiate or something.”

,,Oh,” Stiles says. He’s starting to wonder, starting to think about all the possible places such a pack could be. He knows that they were kidnapped and taken to some sort of warehouse but he doubts that’s where they actually live. It’s probably further away then he first anticipated because he’s never heard Derek mention Leonard’s pack before and not even the twins new who they were – 

,,Stiles?” 

,,Yeah, buddy?” 

,,Stop.”

,,Stop what?”

,,Stop trying to solve this, I can see you are thinking.”

,,I always think, Scott!” Stiles argues with a fake pout. 

Scott snorts and rolls his eyes. ,,We can handle this, trust me.”

Stiles sighs but he has to agree; he doesn’t have the strength now or ever to try and solve this and he’s pretty certain he might just end up finally losing his mind for good if he tries to anyway. So he hums, turns around on his stomach and watches Scott find a movie they’ll watch. 

And so, yeah, he’s is good. He really is. 

It will become very fucking visible soon that he’s pregnant, though and then he won’t be able to hide under loose t-shirts and big sweaters. He isn’t sure what he’ll do at that point and he honestly doesn’t think he can afford to skip school but it doesn’t seem like he has much choice in the matter. He’ll have to deal with that later. For right now he’s good. 

Well, that is until the fool moon comes around again and he turns into a mess. Literally. 

He’s sitting in the cafeteria wearing two big sweaters and Isaac’s stupid scarf and he is still shivering like a leaf in the wind. One part of his brain knows that is has nothing to do with the cold because he isn’t actually freezing but his other more dominant and also stupider side of his brain just keeps going ‘no, it’s just cold, it’s just cold, no, nope, no’ and he decides to listen to that in the end. 

,,Jesus, are you okay?” Isaac asks. ,,I have more scarves in my locker if you want another?”

Stiles looks up at blonde, tall boy sitting across from him. ,,Why on earth do you have more scarves in your… Wait, never mind I don’t think I want to know. It will probably disturb me far beyond anything – “

,,Asshole,” Isaac growls and throws and chip after him. 

,,Boys, be nice,” Lydia says. Then she turns to Scott and Liam and asks: ,,Everything sorted out for tonight?”

,,Yeah, Liam and Malia are going out to that hide out we found in the woods the other night. I have the chains, you have the mountain ash, right?” Scott says. 

,,Got it,” Allison says when she sits down next to Stiles and pulls out an entire bag of black silver-ish dust from her backpack. 

,,Great, then everything is in order.” Scott leans over and takes a handful of Isaac’s chips. The boy doesn’t protest until Stiles follows suit and he bashes his hand away. 

,,Hey!” Stiles says. ,,Give the pregnant human some food, man. Sharing is caring and all that.”

Isaac snorts for good measure but hands him the rest of the chips nevertheless. 

,,By the way,” Scott says, ,,who’s watching Stiles tonight?”

The human almost chokes on his mouthful of chips but manages to swallows and say: ,,No one, tonight my nights off.”

,,But… Your dad isn’t home?” Allison says. 

,,What?” Stiles says and he can just feel how this is the beginning of an awful conversation. 

,,Well, he’s at work tonight,” she explains. 

,,Why, why oh dear god why do you even know that?”

Allison shrugs. ,,We all spend a lot of hours at your house these days.”

Stiles continues without commenting: ,,But, then, is no one watching me?”

,,Of course someone’s watching you, don’t worry!” Scott says immediately. ,,It’s probably Derek.”

Stiles’ blood turns to ice in his veins. ,,Wait, who watched after me last full moon?”

,,The night Derek told us you wanted to be left alone?” Isaac asks. 

,,Yes! The night Derek told me I was alone though I doubt he was telling the truth – “

,,Well, that was Derek,” Scott says with a quick shrug as he takes the chips from Stiles. The boy is far too wrapped up in his own little world to care. He frowns followed by a series of loud groans and shivers before he hides his head in his arms and begs the world to just open up and swallow him. 

,,Stiles, is something going on?” Lydia asks concerned. 

,,Just my life,” Stiles groans. 

,,Maybe it has something to do with his weird smell,” Liam says casually. 

Stiles looks up and furrows his eyebrows. ,,I told you to stop smelling me, dude, it’s weird.”

,,But you do smell different,” Scott says and watched him curiously. 

Stiles bites down on his tongue not to spit some harsh comment about that is to be expected when one is rapped and impregnated by angry werewolves. Instead he grimaces and hides his face again. Isaac, who seemingly wants to join the ‘smell Stiles weird aura’ party takes a sniff and makes and odd, strangled noise, kinda like he’s choking. 

,,You’re aroused,” he says and he sounds genuinely surprised. Allison says a surprised ‘what’ and Lydia gets some water caught in her throat and coughs a few times. 

Stiles just groans louder and shuts his eyes close. ,,Stop fucking smelling me!” he shouts and at least a few dozen students turns to look at their table. 

,,No, well, um, that’s – “

,,Be as aroused as you pleases,” Scott interrupts Liam rambling. 

Stiles looks up from his eyes and says dryly: ,,Thank you, Scotty, I can always count on you.”

,,Does the sudden outburst of arousal have anything to do with why you want Derek to watch you tonight?” Isaac continues with a knowing smirk. 

,,Fuck off,” Stiles huffs. ,,And for the record I wanted to be left alone, thank you very much!”

Allison laughs and Lydia chimes in, Scott just nods, Isaac smirks and Liam looks very uncomfortable. 

,,Whatever,” Stiles says when the bell rings. ,,If you really want to know I’m going into heats and they are very fucking uncomfortable.”

He’s up before anyone has time to process but he doesn’t miss the mumbling ‘heat?’ that follows his words. He sighs and hurries to English. 

When Scott sits down next to him in English and says: ,,So, heats, huh?” Stiles just turns to him with a very stern look and says: ,,Shut up, we are not talking about this,” and the other boy nods and looks very pleased about this.

And then they really don’t talk about it. Even Isaac and Lydia doesn’t say a word about it when he drives the gang home after school. He isn’t sure whether he should be relieved or worried. 

,,Are you… Are you going to be okay tonight?” Allison asks when he drops her off as the last one. 

,,I got it,” Stiles assures her, ,,don’t worry about me, Ally.”

She doesn’t look convinced but she nods and closes the door nevertheless, allowing Stiles to drive home finally. He isn’t surprised to find that he’s alone. Or rather: seemingly alone. He sighs, takes in a deep breath and shouts: 

,,Derek, come out, come out, wherever you are!”

When no one answers and no one walks through either the front door or any of the window he walks to the kitchen to make him some more food. Here he finds Derek sitting at the table, just casually sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper. 

,,Oh holy god!” Stiles yelps in surprise. Derek looks up and gives him and questioning look before returning to the newspaper. ,,Asshole,” Stiles mutters under his breath when he walks over to the fridge to find something eatable. 

,,I made you a sandwich, it’s on the counter,” Derek say casually and gestures towards the sandwich. Stiles grabs it and sits in front of him. 

,,So,” he says. ,,What’s up with you just sitting here?”

,,I’m watching you,” he shrugs. 

,,Aha,” Stiles mumbles and eats quickly. ,,Tonight as well?” 

Derek stops and stills for a second before he looks at the boy again. ,,Yes, even tonight.”

Stiles just nods and eats the rest of the sandwich, ignores the mantra of ‘holy god this isn’t happening’ inside his head because yes, this is in fact happening, this is his life and it sucks, end of story. 

They sit in silence while Derek drinks his coffee and reads the paper and Stiles eats the sandwich like his life depends on it. He is still shivering pretty badly and he is 112 percent certain that Derel can, like Isaac and the other, smell Stiles' arousal. Well, at least Derek knows why, he thinks. 

Afterwards Stiles goes upstairs and Derek stays in the kitchen. Stiles isn’t sure whether he should be disturbed that the previous alpha, big bad werewolf Derek Sourwolf Hale is as comfortable in his household as he is but he’s been through stranger things. 

He closes his eyes tight when the pain starts building up inside him. It is so strong it overpowers the heat burning through his body. He is tense and still, hands clenched and eyes painfully closed when Derek enters his bedroom. 

,,Stiles,” he says very gentle like he doesn’t want to startle the boy. ,,Do you want me to take some of it away?”

And Stiles wishes he was stronger, wishes he could say something heroic like ‘it’s my pain, my burden to bear’ or something along those lines but the bitter truth is that it hurts pretty fucking badly. He is shivering again but this time for entirely different reasons. When he doesn’t say anything – and therefor also doesn’t protest – Derek sits down on the bed and puts his hand on Stiles’. At first it’s just fingertips brushing against his skin but it sends tingles through his body. Stiles can’t help but gasp when Derek takes his hand for good and the pain pulls away slowly. 

He opens his eyes after a minute or two and looks at Derek. The werewolf is the one to shut his eyes close now. Stiles follows the black veins with his eyes and then he bites down on the inside of his cheeks embarrassed. Without the pain to surge through his broken body he is left with… well, a painful need he can’t explain or pin point. But it’s defiantly there and it is beyond strong. 

,,Derek,” Stiles whimpers at it is something between a pained plead and a broken moan. The other male opens his eyes immediately and stares at Stiles surprised. The human wants to look away, wants to ask Derek to stop taking pain, to stop touching him, to stop looking at him, to not even be in the same fucking room as Stiles right now because, holy god, his body is beginning to ache with lust. 

,,Stiles, what’s – “

,,Shut up,” Stiles begs and then he inhales sharply, ignores how his body is trembling and says: ,,Maybe you should just, you know, leave, go out of the room because it’s not getting better from here on out.”

Derek hesitates but then he draws his hand back. It takes all of Stiles willpower not to whimper at the loss of contact but manages. He keeps his eyes closed until he hears the door close behind Derek and then he exhales and grabs his sheet with both hands. 

,,Fucking stupid werewolf,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. He tries to calm himself down and get his body under control by breathing in through his nose and exhaling through his mouth but it doesn’t seem to do much. In a last attempt he gets up, stumbles to the bathroom and grabs the two remaining pills of Deaton's. He drowns them quickly and then he stands there, gripping the sink with both hands, looking at his own pained reflection in the mirror. It takes a while but then he feels how his body slowly begins to relax. Stiles sighs in relief and walks back into his room. He drops down on his bed and rolls over so he is on his stomach. He doesn’t get up or tries to move, he just stays there and enjoys the calm painless, lust-free body he has. He appreciates this, he really does. But it only lasts for so long. After what feels like seconds but is more like an hour the pills lose their effect all together and his body starts hurting again. He probably whimpers, he thinks vaguely, because Derek opens the door and looks in. 

,,Are you okay?” he asks concerned. 

Stiles snorts. ,,Well,” he grits out, ,,I don’t hurt if that what you mean. Well, I do, but that just from the – we are not talking about this, ever, and you are going to leave right now – out, out!”

Derek doesn’t leave, though, he just looks at Stiles who can feel his erection press against his jeans painfully. He breathes through the nose and he longs for hands to touch him; gentle, caring, loving hands that will not give him pain but only pleasure, longs for someone who will give and not only take and he is probably a pathetic sight but he can’t help it. He wants to shout to Derek to get the fuck out but before he can, he feel his bed moving and he opens his eyes to find Derek sitting on it, once again looking at him. 

,,What are you – “ Stiles tries to say but swallows around the big lump in his throat. He hates heats, he absolutely fucking hates them! His erection is throbbing and he just wants to grab it and jerk off but no way in hell is that happening with Derek Hale in his bedroom – 

Derek reaches forward very, very slowly, his entire face pulled into this massive frown that would have Stiles laughing wasn’t he choking down moans. He stops just above Stiles very visible erection and Stiles hold his breath. Then the wolf looks at him and his eyes are so… confused, uncertain and unsure it for startles the boy. 

,,Can I?” he asks. Stiles is too stunned to answer. ,,Sorry,” Derek continues quickly. ,,Of course you don’t – I’m sorry, I just – “

,,Yes,” Stiles get out and Derek freezes. ,,Yes, please, please do… please do that.” Stiles isn’t even sure what ‘that’ is but when Derek swallows hard and nods he realizes that maybe it doesn’t even matter. The older male is so careful when he unzips the jeans that it mesmerizes Stiles. 

,,Tell me if you want to stop,” Derek says. ,,I’d never want to hurt you, Stiles. And if you want me to stop then tell me, because I’d never – “

,,Derek,” Stiles says with a hoarse, raw voice. ,,You are not them. I trust you, you’d never hurt me.”

Derek looks him in the eyes and for a moment Stiles forgets about the way his body is pleading him to just throw himself at the other male. ,,I’d never hurt you,” Derek repeats. ,,I just need you to tell me – “

,,I’ll tell you,” Stiles practically shouts. He needs… holy god, he needs, he needs Derek’s long fingers on him right now and it’s so bad he hardly even cares where he touches him just as long skin contact is happening within the next few minutes. 

,,Promise you,” Derek says sternly. 

,,I promise you that you won’t hurt me,” Stiles says without missing a beat. ,,Thank you,” he adds though he’s not entirely sure for what. Derek, however, just nods and fucking finally puts his hand on Stiles’ dick and starts stroking it slowly through the boxers. 

Stiles gasps and aches up into the touch desperately. He is so close already, his entire body shivering. He hears Derek inhale sharply and the sound makes Stiles moan. He doesn’t have to open his eyes to reassure himself that this is Derek touching him because the strokes they are so gentle. They are nothing, nothing at all, like what those monsters did to him. 

,,P-please,” Stiles begs and he grabs Derek’s arm. The man stiffens immediately and Stiles starts shaking his head. ,,Don’t stop.”

Derek nods and continues. It only takes a few more strokes before Stiles is gasping and coming hard in his boxers. Derek doesn’t move his hand but gets him through the entire orgasm before he pulls away and gets up immediately. Stiles is too far gone to care at that moment. He is breathing heavily, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Derek fucking Hale just gave him a handjob. He hears the door close but even then he can’t feel anything but pleasure and satisfaction. He doesn’t have the energy to clean himself up so he closes his eyes and falls asleep. 

And it isn’t the nightmares that wake him a few hours later; it’s the burning need again. He swallows hard and opens his eyes. He is lying in exactly the same position as when he fell asleep. The cum is dried and it smells in his room but he doesn’t care. He reaches down between his legs and grabs his dick in his hand. It reacts immediately, already painfully hard. He bites down on his lower lip when he strokes himself not to moan out, pretty certain Derek is downstairs rethinking his life decisions. Again it doesn’t take long before he can feel the burning sensation in his stomach. Just before he comes he stops biting his lip and when he comes he moans loud and desperate. 

Then he falls back down on the matrass again. The aftershock of the orgasm isn’t going to last very long, he knows. He only has a few minutes before his body will start throbbing and begging again. He almost wishes he had the pain to drown the pleasure. But he doesn’t, all he has is himself and Derek… 

He knows the werewolf can hear him so his voice is nothing more than a whisper: ,,Please, Derek, please. Please.” 

It takes longer than Stiles had thought before the werewolf shows up in the bedroom door. He looks at Stiles with that same utterly terrified expression and it almost amuses the human. 

,,Derek,” he moans as he reaches down between his legs. He isn’t even entirely sure what he’s doing at this point, just following the desire inside of him. ,,P-please – “

,,Stiles,” Derek grits out and even a human like Stiles can hear that the other male is affected by the sight. It gives him confidence. 

,,Please, Derek, I need… I need you.”

Derek whimpers but doesn’t move right away. Stiles swallows hard and pulls his own boxers down. Then he starts stroking himself while holding eye contact with Derek and again: he has no idea what he’s doing but holy god he isn’t going to stop now. 

After what feel like hours Derek finally moves. He sits down on the bed again reaches out and puts his hands on Stiles waist. He looks down at Stiles questioning. Stiles, still stroking himself, nods although he isn’t entirely sure what he’s agree to at this point. He sees Derek’s eyes flickers uncertainly before he reaches out. He puts his hand on Stiles’ and gentle moves it away. Stiles swallows hard and grabs the sheets again. Then Derek grabs his dick and – 

Holy god he leans forward and put his mouth on the head. Stiles whimpers and Derek freezes. 

,,No, n-no – “ He tries to speak but it’s difficult. ,,Continue, please, Derek, p-please, I need – “ 

Derek doesn’t need to be told twice because suddenly he’s taking Stiles all the way in. Stiles gasps out and can’t help but thrust into Derek’s mouth for more. The other male doesn’t make a sound, just starts moving his head up and down, his tongue doing its magic. Stiles doesn’t last for very long this time either and he comes hard into Derek’s mouth without warning. Instead of pulling away the werewolf just swallows greedily and the sound and the sight makes Stiles heart beat way too fucking fast. 

Derek pulls away, looks down at the human with his heavy eyelids and naked body. ,,Stiles,” he whispers but the boy is already asleep again. Or so he thinks, but when he stands to leave, Stiles grabs his hand and stops him from moving. 

,,Derek,” he mumbles and squishes the hand. He doesn’t say anything else and eventually he lets go of the hand. Derek inhales sharply. Then he carefully pulls his boxers and jeans on again, puts the covers over his body, leaves the room and pretends not hear the: ,,please stay,” the boy murmurs.


	9. Chapter 9

He is pretty certain Derek is ignoring him. Well, to be hones he is pretty certain most of his pack members ignores him. It’s almost impressive how that is possible given the fact that there is still always at least one of them walking by his side, sitting on his bed or drinking coffee in the kitchen. 

And actually there seems to be more of them now. At the moment, for instance, there are four pack members sitting in his living room while he himself I standing in the doorway watching them verily. 

Isaac is on the couch, Allison is next to him, and Aiden sits on the floor with Liam in the sheriff’s favorite chair. None of them are actually looking at him and to be perfectly honest they all seem busy doing other things. Isaac’s eyebrows are furrowed and he is reading something online that seems to worry him. Allison is doing her homework but checks her phone every other second. Aiden is just sitting there tapping his fingers angrily on the coffee table and Liam keeps biting his lip and look around worriedly. It makes Stiles feel very… uneasy. 

He sighs and walks into the living room. He thinks about asking them what the freaking frag is going on but then again he isn’t entirely sure he wants to know. He sits down on the couch next to Allison. She looks at him at give him her special ‘’let’s try and pretend everything is okay although my face says the exact opposite, shall we?” – face. 

,,How are you?” she asks him and he shrugs and puts his hand his belly. It’s a belly at this point, it really it. It’s bigger than big and it’s… very pregnant-ish. It’s almost scary, really, apart from the fact that it totally isn’t. Stiles had expected some minor freak out, some sort of mental breakdown again, he’d expected the world to go up in the wild, white, burning flames but all he get is, well, this. And it isn’t so bad actually. Except for when it is. 

Like when his insides start hurting again like someone is redecorating him from the inside out. It makes him somewhat dizzy and disorientated sometimes and forces him to lay down for hours but it isn’t as bad at is was at the beginning. 

,,Good as can be expected I supposed,” he answers and rubs his belly absently. He is wearing one of Isaac’s enormous sweaters to cover the belly as much as possible but it is kinda ridicules and soon he’ll just have to give up.

No one answers and Allison has gone back to checking her phone. Stiles feels on the edge and he wants to ask them to stop making him so goddamn nervous but he bites down on his tongue to restrain himself from doing so. He knows, because he is not an idiot, that it has something to do with the pack of werewolves currently hunting him but that’s also all he needs to know. 

The tension is the room is very... well, tense, it makes him feel suffocated. Eventually he gets up and walks into the kitchen to make the pack some food. 

At exactly six in the evening the babysitters are released and the job is taken over by Scott, Malia, Kira and Ethan. Stiles watches as the eight of them makes eye contact and have what seems to be a wordless conversation that ends in Isaac, Allison, Aiden and Liam hurrying up and leaving without saying goodbye. When Stiles re-enters the living room it’s almost comical how indifferent the situation is. 

Different people, same tension. 

Kira is talking to Scott in a low whisper but she shuts up when Stiles enters. Ethan is writing to someone and doesn’t even look up great the human. Malia smiles and then resumes to her homework. She looks like there’s something she wants to tell him that she can’t and Stiles can’t help but sigh again. 

When Kira asks him if he’s okay he laughs and gives the same response as before. Kira nods and smiles although it is beyond tensed and uncomfortable. Scott gets up two minutes later and walks upstairs to give someone a call. No one explains and Stiles doesn’t ask any questions. 

That evening when he goes to bed his father is home but there’re still at least three pack members downstairs. He thinks it’s the twins and Kira but he isn’t entirely sure at this point. 

He doesn’t want to go to sleep, partly because he doesn’t want to wake up because of nightmares but mostly because he’s too worried. He is restless and is pacing around the room before he settles down on his chair and grabs his computer. 

When Scott walks in a couple of hours later to check on him, he finds him searching for more paper to feed the starving printer. Stiles looks around and gives his best friend a somewhat uncertain smile. 

,,Hey,” Scott says. ,,You need anything?”

,,No, nope I’m good, you just go back to – whatever it is you’re doing…” He looks down at the printer like he expects it to suddenly grow wings and take off through the open window. 

,,You’d ask if you wanted to know, right?” Scott asks unsurely. 

Stiles inhales and chews on his bottom lip for a moment. ,,Yeah,” he finally says, ,,I would.”

,,Okay,” Scott nods. ,,Maybe you should – can you close your window, please?”

Stiles freezes in the middle of a movement and feels his heart rate pick up immediately. He swallows hard and nods before he follows order. When the window is safely closed again Scott is gone and Stiles returns to his computer. 

He prints out page after page on everything from myths about werewolf babies, incubus and succubus, male pregnancies to the general things to expect when having a child. 

It’s not the first time and it probably won’t be his last either. 

All the papers he puts into a portfolio. 

Then he grabs his phone and calls Deaton. 

,,Doc,” he says. ,,You know, I was just wondering… You’d stop them, right?”

,,I don’t know – “

,,The pack. If – if they did something stupid you’d stop them, right? Be the big bad veterinarian and threaten them with something, right? You would… you would do that?”

He isn’t sure why he called Deaton in the first place. 

,,Stiles, I don’t think you should worry too much about your pack. Focus on your own and the child’s health instead. Is there anything else?”

Oh, yeah, okay he knows why. 

,,I was just wondering,” he begins again, ,,if, you know, perhaps the baby… When I hurt, when I’m in pain, like, the baby can’t feel that right? It’s not like he’s in pain too, right?” 

,,He?” Deaton asks somewhat surprised. 

Stiles actually blushes. ,,Just… I have this feeling it’s a boy – never mind. The question, doc?”

,,The reason you are in so much pain is because your body is trying to make the needed adjustment to even make the pregnancy possible. So no, he isn’t in any form of pain. If you’d like a can check you to see if everything is normal?”

Stiles inhales and licks his dry lips. ,,Yeah, I think that would be good.” 

,,Okay, come by whenever. Oh, and Stiles? Try not worry so much, don’t let the stress effect you.”

,,Okay,” Stiles nods though he doubts he’ll be able to follow the order. 

When he hangs up he’s left alone with utter silence in his room. It’s unbearable so he walks downstairs. 

He finds Lydia and Scott sitting in the kitchen talking in hushed, quick voices, obviously discussing something important while Allison and Kira are in the hallway. They look to be practicing, he thinks. Kira has her sword drawn and Allison is pointing at her with her bow. Instead of fighting, though, they are talking in calm tones about what their next move is. 

Scott and Kira are the first to notice Stiles presence of course. And then all four of them turn to look at him. He sits on the last step on the staircase and watches them silently. 

,,Carry on,” he begs and makes a quick hand gesture. ,,Pretend I’m not even here.”

Lydia and Scott shares a look. ,,Stiles, are you sure you’re okay?” the redhead asks. 

He rolls his eyes so much it ought to hurt. ,,I’m not always on the verge of dying,” he mumbles. It’s a joke though not a fairly good one, he’ll admit that much, but it makes them all go stiff and tense for a second or two before they relaxes their shoulder again. 

He wonders, like he has so many times before, if they’ll ever be okay around him again. If it will ever be anything like it was before. 

,,Sorry,” he whispers before he leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes. He knows they’re watching him but no one is saying anything. He can’t decide whether it’s intense or awkward and just when he’s about to get up and walk away he hears Lydia voice and it quick and sharp like it used to be: 

,,So what’s going on between you and Derek?”

Stiles snaps his eyes open in surprise and catches her green eyes. She has her eyebrows quirked up and her mouth is making that pout thing and he opens his mouth to say something and then closes it dismissively. 

After a few seconds in silence he finally tells her: ,,I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes. ,,Please, Scott told us you practically reeked off him.” 

Stiles glares at Scott angrily but the Alpha just shrugs. ,,Well he was watching me, no big deal – “

,,When you had your heat?” Allison asks and looks from Kira to Stiles. 

The boy sighs and looks from the hunter to the kitsune and back to the hunter. ,,Stop with your assumptions.” 

,,What assumptions?” Kira asks innocently. 

,,Stop that,” he tells her and points at her and then the banshee, the alpha and the huntress. ,,All of you. I know what you are thinking – “

,,I’m thinking you two…” Suddenly Lydia’s voice softens and her eyes lose their sharp spark. 

,,No,” Stiles says and holds up his hand. ,,Don’t do that. Don’t look at me like I’m some…” He sways around with his hands before he drops them back in his lap. ,,He, well, we, you know. It was nothing and anyway he’s avoiding me so he’s probably, you know, regretting the whole thing or whatever. Look, no, don’t give me those looks of pity, you do that enough as it is. Can we just drop it? Okay, the heat was terrible and Derek helped me out.” He grimaces and sighs heavily. ,,That’s all.”

Lydia looks from Scott to Allison and then at Kira. ,,Oh god,” she murmurs. ,,I think your bullshitting us.”

Stiles furrows his eyebrows irritated. ,,Bullshit yourselves.” 

,,That doesn’t even make sense, Stiles,” she sighs. 

,,Well,” he says and makes another wild hand gesture. ,,Lots of things doesn’t make sense. You are talking to a pregnant boy, Lydia. As in a male, with a penis and everything, try to explain the logic in that.”

She makes a grimace but then she makes this face like she can see what he means and drops it. Stiles hums in triumph and goes back to closing his eyes and listening to them pretending that he isn’t there. Kira and Allison continue their strategy talk while Lydia and Scott picks up from where their conversation ended. Not much of what they’re saying makes any real sense to Stiles when he’s not up to date with the plans but it still calms him down. 

When he goes to bed later that night Scott comes up and sits by his bed. He takes some of his pain and Stiles doesn’t even try to stop him. The feeling of relief that follows dulls him into a welcoming darkness. 

That night he has another nightmare though this one is slightly different from the rest. 

He is standing on a hill, he thinks, looking down on what appears to be a battle ground. In the dream he can’t actually tell what is going on, on the battlefield, but he knows that his own pack is fighting the other, Leonard's. Pack against pack, wolf against wolf. More or less. 

He isn’t pregnant in the dream. 

There is a child, however, standing a few feet away from him, also overlooking the bloody war going on beneath them. For a long time that is all that happens in the dream. 

Stiles is terrified, in the dream. He is terrified because of his friends and pack members fighting, he’s terrified that one of the werewolves are going to leap from the fight to attack Stiles instead but mostly, he realizes like one can only realize in a dream – sudden and without warning – he’s I terrified on behalf of the child. 

He takes a few steps towards the child, falls to his knees and wraps his arms around the smaller frame. The child is saying something and Stiles answers – he thinks he is trying to calm the child down, to stop the child from crying possibly. Stiles has his eyes close. He knows this because suddenly he opens them again, looks over the shoulder of the child and finds a pair of impossible blue eyes and long, glimmering fangs. 

He gasp and opens his eyes. He is lying very, very still in his bed, breathing brokenly. It takes longer for him than usually to calm himself down enough to actually look around and realize he’s in his bed. Not because the dream didn’t feel like a dream, but the feelings – the fear is still settled inside of him, thick and unbearable. It feels like it’s beating to the rhythm of his heart, like it’s teasing him. 

Stiles puts a hand of his belly and rubs it gentle, drawing circles on his skin with his fingertips, and then he sees Isaac fast asleep in his chair and Liam leaned against his wall looking at him with his big eyes. 

,,Morning,” Stiles mumbles.

,,You were dreaming,” Liam says as a matter of fact. 

,,Yeah, I always am,” Stiles says and yawns as he stretches his body. 

,,What about?” the boy continues. 

Stiles sighs and stands up. He grabs the nearest t-shirt and puts it on, kinda ignoring the way it tightens around his stomach now. Then he grabs a pair of jeans and a hoodie. ,,All sorts of things,” Stiles shrugs. ,,You coming down for some breakfast?” he says before Liam can ask any more questions. 

,,Sure, whatever,” Liam says in a very rebellious teenager kinda way that makes Stiles huff and murmur ‘kid’ under his breath, well aware that Liam can hear him. ,,Should we wake Isaac?”

,,Nah, he’ll smell the pancakes or whatever,” Stiles makes a dismissing hand gesture. ,,Who else is here?”

Liam shrugs. ,,Scott was here when I got here at,” he thinks about it, ,,two in the morning, as well as Kira and Allison. Isaac I found in your room already sleeping. I think the twins took over earlier because I heard someone entering.”

,,And you didn’t go check?” Stiles huffs. ,,This is poor protecting, you know that. Not exactly my knight in shinny armor, are you?”

Liam looks disgusted but also sort of embarrassed. ,,I knew they were pack! Scott have been teaching me all these way to – “

,,Oh,” Stiles says and stops just before they take the last few steps. Liam stops as well and looks at him in mild concern. ,,Nothing, carry on, I just… You know I just realized that this must be, you know, terrible confusing for you, being thrown into a pack like this, having to look out for this human boy who got pregnant and is being chased by another pack and I just figured, you know, you’ve been a wolf for what? A week or something? I mean, it just seems unfair.”

Liam looks completely taken aback by the sudden outburst. He recovers quickly and smirks. ,,Not to argue or anything, but it seems like your lives hasn’t exactly been fair either.”

Stiles shrugs but gives the other boy a smile. ,,Good point.”

,,Also,” Liam continues as they walk into the kitchen, ,,I’ve been a wolf for two months.”

Stiles rolls his eyes just as Lydia and Malia enters from the living room. ,,Pardon me,” he says mockingly. 

He makes them breakfast, tells them four times that he’s okay, successfully doesn’t drink the cup of coffee he desperately needs and then… then Isaac comes downstairs, groggy and still tired and Stiles is just about to make some sarcastic comment on the wolf’s behalf when he looks at the others; Liam has bags under his eyes, Lydia has this frantic look in her eyes that tells Stiles she is heavily caffeine sedated and Malia is, well, grumpier than usual, practically biting poor Liam’s head off when he accidently drinks her juice. 

They’re exhausted and it’s his fault.

It’s because of him at least. 

He hates that. 

He hates the pang of guilt suddenly rushing through his veins. It makes him feel sick, more than he already is. He bites down on his lower lips and sits down at the table just as Scott and Derek shows up. Stiles looks up when the two werewolves enter the kitchen – Scott gives him his usual too bright smile and Derek hardly even looks at him. Stiles tells himself that it doesn’t send a feeling of hurt through him but even his inner voice is halfhearted. 

,,Hey guys,” Scott greets. He tries to be cheerful but even the alpha looks worn out and about ready to pass out if given the change. Stiles swallows hard and looks down at his fingers resting on the kitchen table. 

,,Scotty,” Lydia says, ,,you ready to take over? I have some things I have to go over with Allison.”

,,Sure,” the alpha says. ,,She’s at the loft right now talking to the twins.”

,,Super,” Lydia says. ,,Isaac, I need you as well.”

The werewolf applies with another loud yawn. 

And Derek still has yet to actually look at Stiles. 

Liam and Malia gets up as well, ready to leave with the two others. They give Stiles a quick smile before they disappear, obviously in some kind of urgent hurry. He still doesn’t ask any questions. Not until the door is closed and it’s just him, Scott and Derek. 

,,You are not going to do anything reckless, right?” he says suddenly, drawing attention to himself. The two werewolves turn to look at him and suddenly Stiles remembers his dream very vividly. His bones are still aching with worry and… fear. For himself, for the wolves, for the child. 

,,We are going to protect you,” Scot says seriously, like that is the answer to Stiles question. It isn’t. The boy rolls his eyes and gets up, hand resting on his belly. 

,,That wasn’t – Scott, I just want to make sure you’re not going into some sort of suicide mission.”

,,We have a plan,” Derek grunts. 

Stiles rolls his eyes yet again. ,,Well pardon me for being a bit worried, out plans usually involves a great deal of danger and stupidity.”

,,Stiles,” Scott says and steps in front of him. ,,We knows what we are doing – “

,,I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me, Scotty!” Stiles pleads. ,,I can live with myself if that happens.”

,,And we can’t live with ourselves if anything happens to your or – or the baby because we were cowards.” Derek finally looks at him and his eyes are furious. 

Stiles inhales sharply and it feels like his blood is boiling with anger. ,,For fuck sake – are you even listening to me?!”

,,Calm down,” Scott begs. ,,Stiles, like I said, we know what we are doing.”

,,Scott – “

,,Can you just trust us?” Derek asks, still grunting and frowning but somewhat gentler than before. 

,,I do!” Stiles argues, practically shouting at this point and blood still boiling. ,,I trust you to be suicidal-y crazy when it comes to protecting the week, vulnerable human and the – the child. My… child.” 

,,You’re not week!” Scott says immediately. ,,We don’t think – “

,,Thanks Scotty,” Stiles just mumbles before he sighs. ,,Just… Forget about it.”

,,We will looks out for each other,” Derek says like that makes everything okay, like that is the answer to Stiles questions. 

The human just shakes his head dismissingly. ,,Okay,” he murmurs. ,,Just – “ He inhales again, can feel the air fill his lungs. ,,Please be careful.”

,,We will,” Scott promise. ,,All of us. Right, Derek?”

Stiles looks up and is surprised when he meets Derek’s dark eyes and even more surprised when the wolf doesn’t look away but holds Stiles gaze. ,,We will,” he says and for some reason Stiles doesn’t believe him. Derek might not be lying about looking out for each other but being careful when it comes to his own safety isn’t one of Derek’s strong personality traits. 

Stiles doesn’t say anything, just nods once and walks passed them and toward the stairs. 

,,You okay?” Scott asks him. Stiles wonders how many times they’ve asked him that question over the last two months. He wonders if the fraise will lose meaning at one point, if it will just become a way of greeting one another in a pack constantly in danger. 

,,Sure,” Stiles says for the hundredth time and continues upstairs. 

To be perfectly honest he is in no mood to talk to anyone and Derek and Scott probably have a lot to discuss about their suicide mission anyway. They can do that without his presence. 

He sits down on the chair and opens the laptop. He starts google-ing ‘what to expect when you’re expecting a werewolf baby’. All he finds is some Breaking Dawn references and couple hundred Twilight fanfictions featuring Jacob Black and Nessie – or whatever her name was, it’s not like Stiles has seen the movie (three times, but hey who counts) and he must defiantly does not think about watching it again when the door opens behind him. 

He spins around in his chair and finds Derek standing in the doorway leaning against the frame. Stiles gives him a questioning smile and lifted eyebrow. 

,,Stiles,” the wolf says and enters the room, closing the door behind them. 

,,What up?” He tries to act nonchalant but somewhere in the back of his mind this persistent voice is shouting that the last time Derek was in this room he was sucking him off. It’s a rather distracting thought. 

,,I just wanted to apologize.” 

Of all the things Stiles expected him to say this was not one of them. He hadn’t thought he was going to apologize. Stiles isn’t even sure what he’s apologizing for. 

,,What – Derek what are you talking about?”

,,I’m not talking, I’m apologizing.”

The man looks at the boy without blinking or wincing but even Stiles can tell that he finds the situation frustrating and maybe even a bit nerve wracking. Uncomfortable, at least. 

,,For what would that be?” Stiles asks genuinely curious at this point. 

Derek frowns irritated. ,,Do we have to do this now?” 

,,Do what? I have no idea what you are even talking about?”

,,Stiles – “

,,Look, is this about what... happened, you know, last full moon? Because, hey, don’t worry about it – “

,,Of course I worry about it!” Derek shouts. The sudden outburst takes Stiles by surprise and he can’t help but flinch. He wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was stronger, more confident and less afraid but he isn’t. And when he opens his eyes again he sees Derek looking distressed. ,,I’m sorry,” the man says again. 

,,Stop apologizing! Or at least tell me what for.” Stiles is frustrated as well now. So frustrated he doesn’t even notice when he gets up and takes a step toward the other male. 

,,Stiles, I’m being serious – “

,,So am I, for fuck – Derek, what the freaking – “

,,For taking advantage of you!” Derek shouts but this time Stiles doesn’t flinch. Instead he freezes; eyes wide and his lips shut into a tight line. 

,,Taking… Derek, I don’t know what you’ve gotten into your head, but you didn’t – for fuck sake, Derek, you are not them – “

,,I might as well be,” Derek growls without looking at Stiles. 

,,What the actual fuck, Derek? No!” Stiles wants to hit Derek, really hit him, to smack some bloody sense into his stupid, thick head. 

,,Stiles, I know what I did, you don’t have to defend – “

,,I’m not defending shit! And I know what you did as well. You, well, you helped me out,” he says, blushing a shameful, crimson red. ,,I asked you to do it, Derek, so it’s not fair – “

,,You didn’t know what you were doing, you were in heat! And I should have been stronger, shouldn’t have… touched you.”

He sounds so distressed, so full of anger and self-hatred, but most of all he sounds so full of regret. It feels like a hand grips around Stiles heart and squeezes tight. 

He draws in a sharp breath and says: ,,Look, if this is about you regretting what happened…”

,,Of course I regret what happened!” Derek snaps and then turns around before Stiles can say anything else. He opens the door and steps outside quickly. Stiles still hasn’t said anything by the time he can hear the werewolf walking down the stairs. Stiles is just sort of standing in the middle of his bedroom, staring at his door like he expects Derek to return. Of course he doesn’t, Stiles is all alone in his bedroom. 

The lump in his throat is beginning to feel like it’s threatening a near death experience with strangulation so Stiles tries to swallow hard several times. Only it doesn’t do any good. On trembling legs he moves forward and closes the door shut abruptly. He hopes the sound it loud enough to make the fucking werewolves winch, he hopes it hurts them, even if only briefly, he hopes – he hopes…

He stackers back to the chair and collapses, bones weak and lungs empty. He wants to say that the pain in his chest has nothing what so ever to do with Derek Hale but that would be a lie. Well, what does one more lie mean when you’ve already told countless?

Stiles spends the rest of his day in his bedroom. Around evening Lydia comes by with Allison and the twins. They all say hello but none of them asks if he wants to go downstairs with them so he don’t have to tell them that he’d rather be left alone, thank you. 

He doesn’t see Derek for the following weeks. He goes to see Deaton and he tells Stiles that the baby is good and healthy. It's the best they can get since they can't exactly just walk into a random hospital with a pregnant boy. 

The pack still takes turn in looking after him. Some days half the pack is present in his living room and then other times there’ll only be one sitting on the kitchen counter when he comes home. No matter how many, they are always, always tense and stressed and obviously tired. They are skipping school a lot, too, Stiles notice. They are hardly ever all there at the same time, at least two members will be elsewhere. Sometimes Stiles can’t help himself and he has to ask, although he doesn’t want to know, about what they are doing. But as soon as they start explaining he begs them not to. He can’t, he just can’t listen to their plans and their missions and their everything and know that this is because of him, because of what happened to him, because of what Leonard’s pack did to him. He can bear the thought that they’re coming for him – and more importantly: the unborn baby. 

On the day of the full moon – the day of his heat – he stays home from school. He thinks he might just stay home until the child is born, the pregnancy is pretty goddamn obvious at this point and he is starting to feel a lot like a whale. He can't fit into his jeans so he burrows his fathers or wears sweatpants every day and even his sweaters are starting to tighten around his stomach. His father looks at him sometimes, when he thinks Stiles isn’t watching him, with this looks in his eyes like Stiles is both the strongest and most vulnerable person the sheriff knows. 

He is waiting for some of the pack-members to show up. Fem minutes before his father leaves for work he hears the front door open. Stiles doesn’t get up or in any way move from his bed. His fingers are gripping the bed sheets already, his forehead is glistening with sweat and his body is begging to shiver. 

When the door opens his isn’t surprised to find that it isn’t Derek entering his room. He is, however, slightly taken back by seeing Isaac with an angry looking Liam. 

,,So,” Isaac says, takes one look at the state Stiles is in and swallows hard, ,,we are here to, uh, look after you. Or rather I am here to look after both of you, this one still has some full moon anger problems." 

,,Great,” Stiles whimpers and shuts his eyes close.


	10. Chapter 10

,,Are you eating normally?” 

,,Yep. Well, I eat a lot more, like seriously I think I’m probably eating for ten or some shit.”

,,Well, you weight what is to be expected. How are the pains?”

,,They are okay, I suppose. Better, anyway, easier, whatever you’d like to call ‘em.” 

,,Good. Well the baby seems to be fine and don’t worry, Stiles, your child is strong already, I can tell, so even if cannot help you much I can promise you the baby is doing just fine.”

Stiles snorts but he doesn’t try to hide the fond smile on his lips. ,,Lou is a strong one, isn’t he?”

,,Lou?” Deaton asks with a small smile. 

,,Yeah,” Stiles shrugs and pulls his t-shirt over his head, ,,it’s what I call, um, him, the baby, in my head. Bow down to unisex names.”

Deaton’s smile grows wider and it makes Stiles smile as well. ,,Well, Lou is doing great. And so are you. I have something you can take for the pain and don’t worry it won’t affect the baby. But I can also tell you that the pain won’t be much of a problem anymore, your body is about as adjusted as it’ll get.”

Stiles takes the new glass of pills and nods. ,,Thanks, doc.” 

For a second he wonders if the same goes for the heats but he knows he isn’t that lucky. He drowns his sigh by swallowing hard. It hadn’t been as bad as he’d feared. He would lie if he said he wouldn’t have preferred Derek to be there, but under the circumstances it was… okay. In all honesty it’d been a recipe for disaster putting a horny, hormonal human together with a frustrated full moon-affected werewolf but like Stiles had pointed out to Scott and Derek a few weeks prior: their plans always always sucked. What happened was bound to happen, really. Liam was fifteen which meant he was horny, with or without the added werewolf stress and Stiles was literally in heat! He hadn’t given him a blow job or anything like but it had been, well, interesting. 

He tries not to snort too loudly but Deaton looks at him nevertheless. 

,,Are you all alone today?” the doctor asks instead of commenting on Stiles’ outburst. 

,,God no,” the human exclaims. ,,The pack doesn’t leave me alone for two freaking minutes these days. Scott and Isaac are waiting in the jeep, I told them I could do this alone.”

Deaton nods understandingly. 

The brief thought of Isaac makes his thoughts wander again: 

He’d been on the bed, Isaac had been leaning against the wall. He’d been in-between the werewolf's legs, with his back against his chest. Liam had collapsed in the other end of the bed and Stiles was too tired to move.

,,Isaac,” he’d mumbled tired, ,,I’m going to fall asleep now.”

,,Okay,” the boy had answered and god his voice had been so, so gentle, far too gentle to come out of Isaac’s mouth. ,,I’ll look after you.”

,,Both of us,” Stiles said and snuggled closer to the werewolf. 

Isaac had snorted loud enough to make Liam stir in his sleep. ,,Yes,” he said, ,,both of you.”

,,Stiles?”

,,What? Uh, sorry, I wasn’t listening…”

Deaton gave him a look but continued: ,,I was just asking if there was anything else I could help with?”

Stiles wants to say ‘no’, wants to tell the older man that he’s preachy and he actually is, hasn’t felt this physically good for months, but it’s just – it’s just that he is Stiles Stilinski and sometimes even when he’s made a very clear decisions to stay out of something he can’t quiet pull through with it. 

,,Actually there was something else I had to ask you,” he says and lowers the tone of his voice drastically until he’s certain neither Scott nor Isaac can hear him. 

Isaac, who’d told them to give in to their sexual frustrations, he didn’t care. Isaac who’d held Stiles hand when Liam and him dry humped each other, grinding shamelessly until they came in their jeans. Isaac, who’d had to swallow hard and look away, obviously turned on by it all, but still refusing to let go of Stiles’ hand because Stiles needed it, needed him, needed someone. 

Deaton looks at him suspiciously and Stiles can’t really blame him. The boy bites down hard on his lip and puts his hand on his belly, rubbing it gently. 

,,Stiles?” Deaton asks and furrows his eyebrows slightly. 

Stiles keeps chewing his lip for a moment longer before he finally looks up and inhaled sharply. ,,Okay. Well. I did some research after the last heat because I have a lot of free-time now that I’m not in school and the pack seems to be very busy doing what they do, you know, and I found something.”

,,Yes?” Deaton asks. 

,,Okay, so, I just thought, you know, if I died after the baby was born, right, the link between my pack and…“ He swallows hard, can’t bring himself to actually say his name, ,,and the other pack would be severed, right?”

Deaton furrows his eyebrows even more now. ,,Where exactly are you going with this?”

,,Well, you know, I just thought it’d go the other way around. Let say that whoever, um, well, impregnated me,” he winces, ,,died, then technically the link between the baby and the other pack would, well, disappear, right?”

Deaton exhales. ,,Not necessarily, no. It depends on whether or not the rest of Leonard’s pack is related to the pack member and therefor also the child.”

,,Okay,” Stiles continues, now obviously very interested in the conversation. ,,If they weren’t, though, it would cut the bond, right?”

,,In some way, yes, but that doesn’t mean that – “

,,But it’d cut the bond, right?” Stiles cuts the older man off. 

Deaton looks at him like he is debating whether or not this conversation is a good idea or not. ,,It would in some way, yes,” he says again.

,,And it’ll slow them down, right? Like, it would weaken them, right?” 

,,Yes, not only would the dead pack member we mentioned before be a huge problem for the pack and hurt them physically and emotionally, also without the actual blood bond they’ll lose a vital part of their strength, so yes. But what does this have to do with anything, Stiles?”

,,Okay,” Stiles inhales and licks his dry lips, ,,so I was thinking, right, that according to the things I’ve read online, if they are true, then I can essentially sense who the, uh, father is.”

He swallows hard and finally meets the veterinarian’s dark eyes. They seem almost black in the dim light. Deaton isn’t saying anything, it’s obvious he’s thinking. And when he realizes exactly what Stiles’ plan is he goes back to furrowing his eyebrows concerned. 

,,I’m not sure the pack would allow you to get close enough for you to actually sense him.”

,,But I would be able to tell who he was, right?” 

,,Yes,” Deaton has to say after a heartbeat, ,,you would.”

,,And if we killed him the other pack would be weakened and given that our pack is already greater in number and strength – “

,,You forget that this only works if the impregnator isn’t related to the rest of his pack members.” 

,,Even then,” Stiles continues, ,,it would still weaken them, right? They’d lose the most vital bond – “

,,They’d still be related to the baby through blood and – “

,,And,” Stiles sighs, ,,my pack isn’t.” 

,,No,” Deaton agrees, ,,your pack isn’t.”

There is a short, intense silence before Stiles sighs and runs a hand through his brown, messy hair. Despite his eight plus hours of sleep he still looks almost as tired and worn out as the rest of his pack. 

,,Stiles,” Deaton says, ,,you have to trust them, they have a plan.”

,,I know,” he says immediately. ,,I really, really do, it’s just – we always have a plan b. Can you honestly tell me that if just a single, little, vital thing in the plan doesn’t go as expected it won’t ruin it all?”

Deaton tilts his head but doesn’t answer and that is all the confirmation Stiles needs. He sighs again and looks down absently at his belly like he wants Lou to magically give them the answer to their entire problem. 

,,I’d need your help,” Stiles finally says. ,,I’d need to do some research, I’d need to, you know, find a way to tell who the impregnator was… is, and I’d need to know if the rest of them was related and whether or not it would still have any effect it they are.”

Deaton shakes his head but not like he’s in denial, more like he is telling him this is a bad idea. Stiles knows it is, it’s too goddamn risky and terrifying to be honest, but he has to do this. 

,,It’s only as a plan b,” Stiles assures him. Deaton closes his eyes and when he opens them again they are full of that pure will and determination that Stiles admires so. He can’t help but grin. 

,,Only as a plan b,” Deaton repeats sharply. 

Stiles nods enthusiastically. ,,Yes, sure, I promise!”

,,Good.” He sighs and looks ten years older all of the sudden. ,,I’ll do what I can. I’ll call when I know something.”

Stiles practically beams. ,,Thanks! Thank you, doc, thanks – “

,,But you cannot tell the pack,” Deaton warns. ,,They won’t agree.”

,,No,” Stiles shakes his head. ,,They won’t.”

And so ten minutes later when he slides into the car and Scott asks how it went, Stiles tells him that Lou is good and safe and strong and that he, Stiles, is doing better. 

Isaac smirks. ,,Lou?” 

Stiles blushes again but when he meets the others’ eyes they are bright and the werewolves are smiling. 

They drive him home, Isaac helps Stiles out of the car and the three of them end up in the living room watching a Friends re-run. It’s nice, it’s calm and comfortable and he’d like to just relax and maybe even sleep but every now and again he can see Scott’s or Isaac’s eyes flicker uncertainly to their phones or to each other and god he just, it makes him feel so useless, not knowing what’s going on, having made that decision because he wasn’t strong enough – still isn’t. Never will be. 

,,Stiles?”

,,Hm?”

He looks up and meets Scott’s worried eyes. ,,You looked sorta distant.”

,,I’m fine, bro, don’t worry.”

,,Is it…” Scott pulls a face and his eyes dart toward Isaac. ,,I mean, is it the – the heat thing that happened last week, do you, um, need to like, talk about – “

,,Oh dear god Scott shut the hell up!” Stiles shouts and with a look of utter terror he shakes his head violently and makes wild hand gestures. He looks at Isaac who is grimacing and refusing to meet Stiles’ gaze. ,,We are never, ever to talk about my heats, deal? Not this one, not the previous ones, not the ones who will follow. Never, ever, ever, Scotty, ever, do you hear me?”

Scott looks like he really wants to nod and agree but Scott is a responsible alpha so he also feels he needs to ask, however desperately his friends just want him to drop the case: 

,,Well, um, Liam, he, uh, smelled – “ he pulls a face, so does Isaac and Stiles, ,,of you and, uh, so did Isaac, sort off, and I don’t know – “

,,Make it stop,” Stiles groans as he hides his face in his hands. ,,Scott, stop, please.”

,,Just,” Scott sighs, ,,what happened? I’m worried.”

,,Don’t be,” Isaac assures him. ,,We are good.”

Scott and Stiles both look at him with features showing a mix of disgust and horror. 

,,Are you sure?” Scott continues. 

,,Yes!” Stiles exclaims loudly. ,,Okay, Liam didn’t do anything he didn’t want to – “

,,I checked several times,” Isaac chimes in. 

,, – I didn’t do anything I didn’t wanted – “

,,Again: I checked.”

,, – and Isaac didn’t actually do anything at all! He was there for moral support, you can call it.”

Scott looks even more repulsed but also somewhat relieved. He looks from Stiles to Isaac and back to Stiles. ,,You sure?” 

,,Yes,” Stiles promises. ,,I’d never do anything to hurt Liam.”

,,And Liam would never try and hurt you,” Scott mumbles. 

,,And if’ he had I’d stopped him,” Isaac says seriously. 

Scott is obviously thinking hard, judging by the odd face he is making but a few seconds later he finally nods and Isaac and Stiles exhales in relief as well. 

,,Thank god he dropped that,” Stiles mumbles ten minutes later when Scott has been replaced by Lydia and Kira. Isaac snorts and meets Stiles gaze. 

,,Yeah,” he says and sighs dramatically. 

When Stiles looks at Isaac he remembers. He remembers the way he hadn’t pushed Stiles away when the human had begged him to stay, desperate for the touch, lust surging through his veins, setting his body on fire. Isaac had nodded, had sat down next to Stiles and he’d stayed through the entire heat. Through the shameless grinding, through the orgasm, through the screams Stiles had muffled into his pillow, through Liam wolfing out when he smelled himself on Stiles, through all of it. He’d let Stiles sleep in his arms because he knew Stiles needed him – because of the heat and because of the nightmares. And when they’d woken up, all three of them, they’d looked at each other, Liam had asked if stiles was okay (,,sure, dude’’), Stiles had asked if Liam was alright (,,Yeah, don’t worry”) and Isaac had snorted, had mumbled something about being traumatized for life and had made them all breakfast. 

,,You’re dozing off again, Stilinski.”

,,Huh, sorry, bud. You saying?” 

Isaac rolls his eyes and shakes his head. ,,Nothing, nothing. You okay?” 

,,I’m fine like I’ve told you a bazillion times already,” the human comments. After a moment he continues: ,,Thanks for, uh, you know, um, staying – “

,,It was nothing, really, I didn’t really do anything – “

,,But you stayed, and I’m grateful.” 

,,Anyone would’ve stayed,” Isaac snorts. 

,,Maybe,” Stiles agrees because his pack really is amazing and maybe they would’ve, ,,but it wasn’t ‘anyone’ it was you. And thanks, buddy.”

,,I’ve said a bazillion times – “

,,Okay, okay, fine, jeez,” Stiles says and can’t help but smile. 

,,Have you talked to Derek?” Isaac asks after a second of comfortable silence. Stiles can’t help but tense and he shoots the other werewolf a disapproving look. ,,You have to talk to him.”

,,Not necessarily.”

,,Jesus, Stiles,” Isaac mumbles irritated. ,,He thinks you and Liam are in love.”

,,Because we smell of each other? You guys gotta stop smelling people, it’s weird.”

,,Not the point – “

,,Look, Isaac. I’ll talk to him later. When we are not being chased by werewolves and I’m not about to give birth to an actual living, breathing, human-wolf-hybrid, okay?”

Isaac looks far from convinced but he also looks exhausted so he drops it with a shrug and goes back to watching friends. Gratefully Stiles follow suit and they make it through an entire season before Isaac falls asleep. Stiles is more than just a little impressed. 

When Liam shows up around six in the evening they share a look – a look they’ve shared before over the last week – and nods, like they are both agreeing to the terms of the “we weren’t really ourselves last week but it was some good orgasms and I slept like a baby afterwards though I think we might have forever traumatized our mutual friend as well as upset our alpha but hey so what’’ – conditions. Stiles likes those conditions. He also kinds likes Liam; he’s a walking time bomb, he’s overly nervous but he’s also very determined when he needs to be, he’s awkward in that way fifteen year old tends to be and he seems to be pinning after very single member of the pack (Kira and Scott the most) but Stiles kinda likes him, yeah. 

The sheriff makes dinner – he orders Pizza, Stiles shoots him a disapproving look – and the three of them eat it in the living room. Afterwards Liam makes his homework in the kitchen while the sheriff and Stiles watch a game on the TV. 

,,I’m going to miss them,” John suddenly says and Stiles stops in the middle of sentence and looks at his father. 

,,Miss who?” he asks. 

,,The pack, it’s been nice having them around, you know. It’s comforting.”

Stiles nods. ,,I know. It’s not like they’re going to stop coming around once the baby is born.”

,,I know, I know, but it won’t be the same. There’ll be the baby to look after, and all that. Which reminds me: we have to go buy stuff soon.”

,,Buy… stuff?”

,,Baby stuff,” his father sighs. ,,You know, stuff.”

Stiles snorts. Then he opens his eyes wide. Then he stops breathing. 

They have to actually buy stuff.

Maybe paint the guest room. 

They have to make an actual room for the baby, for Lou, to live in.

And then Stiles realizes: I’m going to keep it (him). 

And then he also realizes: nothing will ever be normal again. 

And then: I’m going to be a father.

And: for the rest of my life. 

He ends up in the shower, sitting on the cold tiles, feeling the steady flow of water pouring over him. He is crying, he thinks, but it’s okay. He has his legs tugged against his chest, arms wrapped around them. He rocks back and forth gently, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. 

He doesn’t have a panic attack but he stays in the shower for nearly an hour. When he comes out again Liam is gone and Lydia and Allison are sitting in the kitchen. He walks toward them, wearing his sweatpants and a big, white t-shirt. 

,,Hey, Stiles, how are you?” Lydia asks. 

He doesn’t answer. 

,,Your dad had to go, he said he… Stiles?” Allison gets up from her chair. 

Still no answer. 

Lydia and Allison exchanges looks and then Stiles falls into Lydia’s arms and he feels her wrap her arms around him. Allison puts her hands on his back while he cries. They collapse into the chairs, him awkwardly sandwiched between the two girls, the hug anything but normal with his belly squeezed in-between but it’s what he needs. He needs the safety, he needs their calming words, their long, slender fingers and their motherly nature. He needs to cry, although he isn’t sure what for anymore. He isn’t sad, he isn’t devastated. He isn’t even tired or embarrassed. 

But he is still broken. 

He’ll always be broken. 

When he finally pulls away he notices that both Lydia and Allison are crying too. 

,,Stiles,” Lydia whispers. 

,,I’m better now,” he promises weakly. ,,I just…” His voice trails off and he looks down, feeling so utterly lost sometimes. 

,,It’s okay,” Allison promises him, as she puts her hand back on his shoulders for support. ,,It’s okay to not always be okay.”

,,But I’m never okay,” Stiles whispers. ,,I’m never – “

,,That’s not true,” Allison argues. ,,You always pretend to be strong for us, Stiles. You always smiles – “

,,I don’t, though,” he argues. ,,You’ve all seen me weak and crying and screaming and – “

,,God, you don’t see how strong you, do you?” Lydia asks suddenly, looking at him seriously, with a determination that only Lydia Martin will ever truly muster. ,,You are the strongest out of all of us.”

,,Yeah,” Allison agrees, ,,you really are.”

He wants to keep arguing, but he isn’t in the mood, so he just shrugs and gets up. He assures them over and over again that he’s better now and eventually they stop asking questions.


	11. Chapter 11

The following weeks go by in a blur, really. There is stuff to do and things that happens and it is all very… exhausting. 

Stiles tries to keep up with the school work while never actually going to school. About a week after his third heat everything seems to slow down for a while; the pack isn’t as tense and tired and on the edge as they’d been just a few days before. Stiles calls Deaton and the veterinarian can tell him that the threat – that’s what he calls it – is for the time being eliminated. 

That also means that for the time being everything goes back to a somewhat more or less normal state. As normal as a state can be when it includes several different supernatural creatures and a pregnant boy. 

Scott stays with him most days. He either brings Liam, Allison, Isaac or Kira with him. When Lydia drops by she’s always accompanied by Aiden or Allison and if it’s Ethan he usually brings along Danny. Malia is either there alone and then Stiles’ll help her with her homework or just generally give her the code of ethics to be a normal human being, or she’ll be there with Liam – they seem to hit if off pretty well – or Kira or Lydia. Derek is never there and if he is it only briefly. It’s been so long since the third heat – the heat with Derek – and the other male is still more or less ignoring him. It’s driving Stiles insane. 

It is Liam who eventually convinces him to talk to Derek. Scott and the beta are there for a movie night while the sheriff is at work. Scott is upstairs on the phone with Kira and Stiles is trying to find his star wars movies when Liam suddenly says: 

,,You have to tell him the truth.”

Stiles spins around abruptly and looks at the other boy on the couch. ,,What are we talking about again, Li?” 

,,Derek,” he answers with an impressive eye-role. 

,,Aha,” Stiles says and pulls out the movie box set he’d been looking for, ,,and what exactly is that ‘truth’ that we so need to – “

,,That we’re not dating!” Liam practically shouts. 

Stiles straightens his back and looks down on the younger boy. ,,I’m hurt,” he says flatly. 

,,No, you’re not. Derek is, apparently, because he thinks that we are, well, dating or whatever.” The blush that follows those words is adorable. 

,,We could be,” Stiles argues. 

Liam gives him a stern look and Stiles sighs and drops down on the couch next to him. 

,,Fine,” he gives in, ,,I’ll talk to the moody, grumpy alpha, if that’s what ya want.”

,,Not me but everyone else.” Liam places his feet in Stiles lap comfortable and Stiles doesn’t even push them away. ,,Scott has been complaining non-stop that Derek is even moodier and grumpier than usual. Lydia and Allison thinks you’re both idiots. Kira is – she feels bad for you both, I think. Malia and Peter are mostly just angry, but they’re always angry.”

Stiles snorts in agreement and sighs again. ,,Is it really that bad?”

Liam smirks and nods. 

And that is how Stiles finds himself in Derek’s loft forty-five minutes later. Liam isn’t there but Allison and Lydia are right behind him. Scott hadn’t been too upset that he'd canceled movie-night as soon as he’d heard that he was finally going to break the tension between Derek and him. 

,,Finally,” Lydia mumbles when Stiles knocks on the door. Stiles ignores her and opens the door without waiting for a reply. 

Inside he finds Derek pretty quickly. The werewolf is sitting on his couch, reading some old, ancient book by the looks of it. He looks up when they entered but he doesn’t look surprised – he’d probably smelled them miles away. 

,,What are you doing here?” he asks and stands up. ,,Did something happen?”

,,Everyone’s fine,” Allison assures him. 

,,Speak for yourself, I’m starving,” Stiles mumbles. He hears Derek snicker loudly and he looks up and locks eyes with the other male. 

,,Okay,” Lydia says and pushes Stiles gentle forward into the loft. ,,We’ll wait upstairs in Isaac’s old room if you need us,” and then they’re both gone and Stiles and Derek are just sort of standing there, looking at one another without saying anything. 

,,So,” Stiles says and tilts his head. 

,,What are you doing here, Stiles?” The other one asks and he sounds… tired. So, so very tired. It makes Stiles’ heart ache with sympathy. 

,,I’m here to tell you,” he says and takes several steps towards Derek, ,,that whatever idea you have gotten into your head about me and Liam, it isn’t like that.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, hardly even moves a muscle. 

,,He’s like my little brother or something which is more than just a little disturbing now that I think about it – but anyway! That’s not the point. I’m not in love with Liam. Or Isaac, for that matter. That not meaning I don’t love them,” he adds. ,,They stayed with me through the heat and helped me.”

Derek still isn’t responding. 

,,I would’ve preferred you there, though,” Stiles finally admits. ,,But you were too much of a chicken – “

,,I didn’t want to hurt you.” Derek isn’t even looking at him anymore. God, Stiles can’t decide if he wants to hit him or kiss him. 

,,You are an idiot,” Stiles tells him, still stepping closer and closer. And Derek doesn’t wince and doesn’t move away. ,,You always assume all kinds of shit, Derek. And you’re not right, you do know that? You think, like, you have all these grand things figured out and then you go all grumpy and angst-y teenager on me when in reality you know shit!”

,,Stiles,” Derek says and also takes a few steps closer to the human. ,,I just don’t want to hurt you.”

,,God!” Stiles wants to scream. ,,You are NOT hurting me, okay? You’re not. If you were believe me I’d tell you. Okay? Do you get that into your thick head of yours, Jesus Christ.”

Derek actually smirks, that asshole. ,,You’re not very a pep talks.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but stats breathing more evenly again. ,,No shit, I’ll have to talk to Scott ‘bout teaching me then.”

,,I know I’m an idiot sometimes,” Derek suddenly admits. He is standing very, very close all of the sudden, so close Stiles could reach out and grab his shirt, pull him closer - ,,But I do it because I worry about you.”

Stiles’ breath gets caught in his throat. ,,Okay,” he says. ,,I’m not going to ask you to stop because I know you won’t, but I’m going to fucking beg you to not think you’re always hurting me when you’re not actually hurting me, okay? I know that we’ve been through a lot of shit these last months and I know I’m more fragile than normal but I’m still me – I need you to remember that, Derek. Or else I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

,,Okay,” Derek promises immediately and reaches out to put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. It’s not enough, the human thinks, but he still relaxes. ,,I’m sorry. I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”

,,Yeah, you have,” Stiles mumbles. 

,,I’ll stop, then.” 

,,Good.”

And then they just sort of stand there, looking at one another. It’s both oddly intense and strangely relaxing. Stiles thinks he could stand like that, with Derek so very close for eternity. But Lydia and Allison emerges after a moment and Lydia coughs awkwardly. Derek steps back and they both turn to look at them. 

,,So, I assume you guys are okay again.” 

Stiles looks at Derek and the other one rolls his eyes and Stiles snorts. ,,Yeah,” the boy hums. ,,We are.”

It’s so fucking easy, actually. They don’t have to talk for centuries, they just have to look at each other and five minutes later they’re already doing better. Stiles and Derek are always arguing but Stiles thinks he can live with that if making up will always be this easy. 

They leave ten minutes later and Derek promises to drop by the next day. 

He does. 

And the day after that. 

And the day after that one as well. 

And the days go by, one after one, and turn into a week. The Pack is becoming more and more restless and Stiles tries not to think too much about it. Deaton still hasn’t called about their plan b and Stiles is starting to think it was all too good to be true. Him and his dad go shopping one afternoon and then realize that they need a lot of stuff and go the days following as well. 

Scott is supposed to help them paint Lou's room one afternoon but its Liam and Kira who shows up. They look panicked but assure Stiles that everything is ok – there are both shitty liars. 

Somehow the week turns into another and another. Stiles is very, very pregnant and very, very ready to not be so. He is four months pregnant and he looks like he’s about to burst. Two more months with this and he think he’s going to go insane. He’s never admired women more than he does right now. 

He sleeps a lot and when he doesn’t sleep he’s either reading book after book about parenthood, freaking out in the shower or looking at his phone, waiting for Deaton to call. 

And he does.

Stiles is sitting on the couch balancing a Ben & Jerry’s on his belly and watching yet another re-run of Friends on the TV. Derek and Scott are in the kitchen pretending they aren’t plotting though that’s exactly what they’re doing. Stiles is trying to ignore them though is difficult. 

And then his phone rings from somewhere underneath him. He almost drops the ice cream but catches it and places is on the couch before he grabs the phone. 

,,’ello?” he says. 

,,Stiles, it’s Deaton.”

,,Oh,” Stiles says and glances towards the kitchen. ,,Um, yeah, is everything okay with the baby?” he asks as he quickly walks towards the backdoor. He slips out just as Deaton asks: 

,,Can they still hear you?”

,,No,” he breathes lowly. ,,Did you find something?”

,,I did. I think you need to get out here. Can you do that?”

He chews on his lower lip thoughtful. ,,Yeah,” he mumbles. ,,I think so. But not until tomorrow.”

,,Okay. Come as soon as possible.”

Stiles feel his heart miss a beat. Deaton is urgent which means the pack is just as stressed as the human had originally thought they were. In conclusion it means Leonard’s pack is close. It feels like he has a sea of ice in his stomach and he has to swallow hard a few times before he can muster a half-hearted ,,yes’’ before he slips inside again. 

,,Stiles?”

He looks up and both Scott and Derek are waiting for him. 

,,Hey,” he says and he doesn’t try to sound witty. 

,,Are you okay?” Derek asks concerned. 

Stiles furrows his eyebrows and says: ,,Not really, no. Deaton just called, says he wants to take another look at Lou.”

,,Lou?” Derek asks. 

,,Right now?” Scott asks, eyes wide. 

Stiles shakes his head. ,,He said it could wait till the morning.”

,,I’ll take you first thing,” Scott says quickly and Stiles smiles now. 

,,Thank, bud, but I’ll get Liam to be my watch dog, don’t worry. You guys,” he nods at Derek and Scott, ,,seems to be, um, occupied.”

The werewolves exchange anything but subtle glances as Stiles situates himself back at the couch and grabs the ice cream. He feels rather than sees Scott and Derek sits down next to him. 

,,Ice cream?” 

Derek takes the Ben & Jerry’s as well as the spoon much to Stiles’ surprise. 

,,Dude,” Scott says in a low voice. ,,You know we love you right?”

Stiles almost gets the ice cream caught in his throat and he has to cough roughly. With tears in his eyes he nods frantically. ,,Why this sudden information, Scotty?” he asks. 

,,What he’s trying to say,” Derek continues before Scott can say anymore, ,,is that we are going to protect you. And we are sorry we are busy right now but – “

,,Hey,” Stiles interrupts. ,,Don’t do that. I love guys too, I know you’re doing this for me and Lou.”

Derek smiles every so gentle and Stiles is about 86 percent sure he blushes just the slightest before he turns to Scott. The other male is smiling as well but it is careful, like he can’t seem to push the smile through all his worries. 

Stiles falls asleep in Derek’s arms and he wants to tell the Sourwolf that he’s fucking happy that they are doing this again – speaking, touching, everything – but he’ll probably end up embarrassing himself even more so he keeps his mouth shut. 

The moment he wakes up again – in his own bed – he calls Liam and asks if he’s busy. Since it Saturday he isn’t and he agrees to go with the human to Deaton’s. 

,,Wait in the car,” Stiles says and opens the door. 

,,You don’t need me – “

,,I’ll be fine, Liam, thanks,” Stiles says as he struggles to get out of the stupid jeep. Gosh, being pregnant is difficult. Its heavy, it’s painful and you feel like a fucking whale. 

He finds Deaton inside by the metal tables. The veterinarian looks up but doesn’t smile when he sees Stiles. Whatever this is, it is obviously seriously. 

,,What did you find?” Stiles asks immediately and steps closer. 

,,I did some research of my own,” the man answers. ,,Leonard’s pack has five living members. Leonard, Peter, Susan – she wasn’t there when you were kidnapped – Christian and Leonard’s brother Thomas.”

The names… The names make him feel sick. He has to grab the edge of the table not to faint. He blinks but the dots don’t disappear from his vision. 

,,No one expect Leonard and Thomas are related through blood,” Deaton continues. ,,From what the pack has told me, Leonard wasn’t one of the…” He doesn’t finish the sentence and Stiles doesn’t need him to. 

Stiles is paler than usual and he has sweat glimpsing on his forehead. He doesn’t look up from the floor but he nods. ,,Yeah, he wasn’t.”

,,Stiles,” Deaton asks carefully, ,,do you need me to stop?”

Yes.

,,No,” Stiles whispers. ,,Please continue.”

And after a long silence Deaton does just that: ,,If Thomas is the impregnator it means that when he dies Leonard is still related to the baby, and – “

,,And since he’s the leader, the alpha, it means that the rest of them…” Stiles mumbles and finally gathers the strength to actually look up and into Deaton’s dark brown eyes. 

,,The rest of them will be very attached to the baby as well, yes.”

,,But would it still, you know, make a difference if we killed Thomas?” 

,,I believe it would,” Deaton continues. ,,From what I’ve gathered the bond will be severed the moment the impregnator is dead. There will be a moment where the other pack isn’t in any way attached to the infant, brothers or not, and therefor weakened.”

,,We could kill them,” Stiles whispers. ,,They’re weaker than us, they only pose a threat through their determination and bond and we can destroy that – “

,,Stiles,” Deaton interrupts suddenly. ,,We are talking about seconds.”

,,It’s better than nothing,” Stiles says without missing a beat. 

Deaton doesn’t look as convinces as the human but he stops arguing. ,,It’s only as a plan b, however.”

Stiles nods and he isn’t even lying. He really, really doesn’t want to be involved with anything but he can’t quite keep out of it either. He has the plan b should anything go wrong but he’d honestly preferred to be asleep through it all and wake up to pancakes and the good news. 

,,Should you be able to kill him before the baby is born,” Deaton says, ,,your heats will stop.”

Stiles looks up at this and raises his eyebrows surprised. ,,Seriously?”

,,Yes.” Deaton tilts his head and sighs heavily. ,,Promise you’ll be careful.”

The gentle words startles Stiles and he stops abruptly and looks at the other male. ,,I will,” he promises. ,,Thank you.”

,,Call me if anything happens,” Deaton says sternly. 

,,I will,” Stiles repeats before he opens the front door and disappears toward the jeep.

,,How’d it go?” Liam asks immediately. 

,,Fine, fine, everyone’s fine,” Stiles says and tries smiling but it’s hard when his heart is beating way too fucking fast and hard. 

They get home and decide to watch Iron Man 2. They’re half way through when Liam gets restless. He starts walking to the kitchen constantly, pacing back and forth and not paying attention to the movie. It makes Stiles nervous and his fingers are almost shaking where they rest on his belly. He grits his teeth and licks his dry lips as he glances at Liam who’s currently standing in the doorway with furrowed eyebrows and his fingers clenched into fists. 

That is when Liam’s phone suddenly rings; loud, clear and without pause. The werewolf grabs it immediately and never gets a change to say anything. He just stands there, listening to whomever he’s talking to, while he sometimes looks at Stiles and swallows hard. 

,,Okay,” he croaks out just before he drops the phone. 

Stiles is already up at this point, standing somewhere between Liam and the couch. ,,What’s happened?” 

He almost doesn’t want to know, wishes he could pretend that everything is fine and good so he and Liam could go back to watching Iron Man and not worry – it’s not normal for kids their age to worry this much, it can possible be healthy. 

,,They’re here,” Liam says, voice high and broken. 

,,Who?” he asks though he knows the answer, has known the answer ever since Liam started being rootless. 

,,Leonard.” Liam takes several steps towards Stiles as if he’s afraid the boy might just faint there and then. He reaches out, ready to grab him if (when) he falls. Only problem is that Stiles doesn’t fall, he stands still and silent and somewhat numb, looking at the younger boy without even blinking. ,,Are you okay?” Liam asks uncertainly after a few intense seconds. 

,,Yeah,” Stiles whispers because that is all he can do. He nods frantically and keeps whispering ,,yeah, yeah,” and he isn’t even sure if it’s a lie any more. 

,,Okay, well, Isaac’s on his way over here right now. We’ll take you to Kira’s house where you’ll stay until…” 

,,Until it’s over.”

,,Yeah,” Liam mumbles. ,,Until it’s over.”

,,Are,” and Stiles can’t really bring himself to say, it’s like words get caught in his throat. ,,Are the others, um, out there now? The pack, I mean.”

Liam takes a sharp intake of breath. ,,Yes,” he says. ,,They’re, um, meeting them halfway, sort of.”

The human nods and so does the werewolf, and they stand there – nodding – a few moments before Stiles finally exhales and collapses onto the couch. Liam sits down next to him and none of them say anything but Stiles can see Liam’s claws and it oddly comforting to know that the boy next to him can and will fight for his wellbeing. 

,,Liam,” Stiles whisperes. Without thinking too much about it he takes the other boy’s hand in his and squeezes it. 

,,They’re going to take care of them,” Liam mumbles distractively, looking out of the window. The boy doesn’t look overly confident about his statement but Stiles just nods nevertheless and doesn’t let go of the hand. 

Isaac shows up a few minutes later, out of breath and eyes glimmering yellow. He opens the door and practically falls into the living room and immediately Stiles and Liam know something is terribly wrong. 

,,We’re are not going to Kira’s.” 

,,Why not?” Liam asks sounding frustrated already. 

,,Something… happened.” Isaac looks at Stiles then and there is fear reflected in Isaac’s normally confident glare and it terrifies Stiles. 

,,What?” Liam demands. 

,,Something, I don’t know, Scott didn’t give me the details, just told me that we couldn’t afford to take Stiles anywhere. He has to stay indoor – “ His voice is cut off by a loud, piercing howls. All three of them look out of the window where the moon if starting to show on the gray evening sky. 

Stiles breath gets caught in his throat and he digs his nails into his palm to feel something, anything, and hopefully fight off a possible panic attack forming slowly but steadily in his throat and chest, already starting to suffocate him. 

,,Then what do we do?” Liam continues and even though his fangs are out now as well he looks just as frightened as Stiles and Isaac. 

,,We stay here. Check everything is locked – “

,,Wait, my dad!” Stiles says suddenly, eyes growing wide. 

,,He’s with Melissa and Peter in the Hale basement or something, he’s okay though, don’t worry.”

Stiles takes a deep intake of breath and tries to calm down but it’s almost impossible. It’s beginning to feel like he’s trying to breathe under water and it hurts. 

Liam is already running towards the backdoor to lock it and Isaac is stepping closer to Stiles, grabbing him by the arm to steady them both. ,,It’s going to be okay,” Isaac assures him and he even manages a weak smile. 

Stiles lets the other boy guide him into the kitchen where Isaac pours him a class of cola and stands next to him, eyes fixed on the door and window. The TV is still showing Iron Man but the sounds and the voices suddenly sounds all wrong, like there should be silence in the house. They can vaguely hear Liam running around, securing every entrance and window there is. 

Stiles is staring down into his glass with Isaac’s firm hand on his shoulder. He can’t pretend that he doesn’t feel how it trembles slightly just like the human can’t ignore how the werewolf is chewing on his lower lip and hardly even blinking. 

The boy can’t help but ask: ,,Do you… Do you have any idea what happened, Isaac?”

The other one looks down on him with his eyes changing back to bright blue. ,,Something went wrong,” he says in a low tone. He swallows hard before he can continue: ,,The other pack surprised them.”

,,Who is ‘them’?” Stiles asks, voice trembling. 

,,Scott,” Isaac says, ,,Derek, Allison and the twins.”

,,And the rest?”

,,Kira and Malia is taking Lydia to join your father and Melissa before they head back to…” His voice dies out and he stares out of the window again like he can maybe see or sense them if he just stares long and hard enough. 

Liam returns just as Stiles reaches for his phone. ,,Everything is done,” he announces and Isaac and him look at each other and nods. 

Stiles has already found Deaton’s number and is calling the older man, suddenly not so sure he’ll pick up. It rings four, five, six times before Stiles hears the veterinarian’s voice: ,,Stiles? I heard the howling, what happened?”

,,Something went wrong,” Stiles says, never looking up to meet Isaac or Liam’s probably confused looks. ,,The pack, Leonard’s pack, I don’t know – “

,,You think they need your help?” Deaton interrupts sharply. 

,,I don’t know…” he says weakly, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. ,,Maybe. I don’t know. Everything happened so fast, ten minutes ago I was watching a movie with Liam and now Isaac’s here and apparently something – “

,,Give me Isaac,” Deaton demands and Stiles follows orders without second thoughts. Isaac takes the phone somewhat disorientated. 

Stiles sees Isaac furrow his eyebrows for every second that passes. ,,I don’t know – “ he begins to say uncertainly, eyes darting between the door and Stiles. ,,Are you sure? Well – yes, well from what I gathered from Scott they still – I don’t think that’s so – are you sure? Okay… Yeah, okay. Yes. Yes. Okay.”

He hangs up and slams the phone down on the table, startling both Stiles and the other werewolf. Liam has his eyes wide and Stiles just then realizes that the other boy could hear the entire conversation. Stiles looks from one to another and pack before he gets up slowly – everything is slowl with him these days. 

,,What did he say?” he asks, almost afraid of the answer. 

,,He told me,” Isaac says and looks at Stiles with – is that a flash of anger in his eyes? ,,that you two had an plan b that you hadn’t told anyone about. He said only to use this plan as a last resort but that we should take you to him right now to prepare. I tried to tell him it was a bad idea – “

,,No!” Stiles shouts, heart hammering painfully in his chest. ,,No, we have to go!” 

,,Stiles, what is all of this?” Liam asks nervously. 

,,Look, you guys have to trust me just like I trust you.” He looks at them pleadingly. ,,Please,” he begs and he can practically see them give in to him. Isaac growls irritated and Liam sighs. 

,,Okay, but we go right now and we call Scott,” Isaac says, reaching for the keys on the counter. ,,Come on.”

Stiles smiles to them – both of them, and tries to look calm or brave although he feels like he could possibly pass out from anxiety any minute. 

They hurry to the car, Stiles climbs in, hand constantly on his stomach. Liam and Isaac are in front, Isaac slamming his food down on the speeder urging the jeep to move forward. Stiles closes his eyes and as Liam tries to call Scott he thinks about Lou’s room. Thinks about the bed Stiles and his dad had bought. He thinks about all the great unisex clothe they’d bought and put into his little drawer. They bought diapers and everything else they’d needed and arranged it so everything was ready. And it is just next to Stiles’ room, ready and prepared and now they are driving away from it and Stiles can’t help but feel like he is leaving it all behind to never return. 

,,Scott’s not picking up!” Liam shouts, voice full of panic and fear. 

,,Shit,” Isaac mumbles and bites down his lip. 

Stiles doesn’t have time to process what that means exactly because the next second Isaac brings the car to a halt so suddenly that Stiles only just has time to stop himself from slamming into the car seats without mercy. 

He gasps and straightens his back. Liam and Isaac are breathing rapidly and Stiles blinks furiously as he looks outside of the window. 

And then he sees them: 

Two men and obviously werewolves. Their eyes are bright and terrifying to look into. Their fangs are long, undoubtedly sharp and glimmering in the pale moon light. 

,,Fuck,” Liam says and Stiles doesn’t even have the courage to nod in agreement at this point.


	12. Chapter 12

Before Isaac has time to start the car again the two werewolves move so freaking fast Stiles can hardly even see the movement with his weak human eyes. 

One moment they’re standing a few meters away, bathed in the car’s light and the next they’re right beside the car. And everything happens too fast for Stiles to really feel anything but his heart beating in his chest. 

Isaac growls and Liam follows suit when the jeep’s doors are yanked off and a hand reaches forward. 

They should’ve never left the house. 

They should’ve stayed indoors and maybe waited for back-up. 

Stiles sees Isaac push one of them away and jump out of the car. On the other side Liam is pulled out and thrown to the ground. Stiles flinches and moves to the corner of the backseat, staring wide-eyed at the wolves.

One of the two – a younger man, probably around twenty-five years old, turns to look right as Stiles. He howls, showing his impressive set of very lethal teeth. He moves forward, defiantly headed for Stiles, when Liam growls and attacks. 

Stiles yelps and stares in shock and horror as the sixteen year old boy tries to scratch and bite the other male. When Stiles turns his head he sees Isaac fighting as well. And when Stiles really looks at them – Isaac and the other wolf – he can see the eyes flashing and the fangs glimmering but more importantly he can recognize him. 

It’s Leonard. 

Stiles yanks his head back to Liam and the other one –and yes, Stiles recognizes this one too though he isn’t sure what his name is. 

All he knows is that this man, the man right there, a few feet away, hurt him, broke him, ruined him. And now he’s back for Lou. 

Stiles feels beyond tormented as the fights continues, howls filling the air, growls promising deaths and injuries and blood being spilled. He is terrified – more frightened than he’s been in years. He was scared when they’d been kidnapped, of course he had, it had been terrible, it had been hell on earth without comparison but this, this is an entirely different kind of fear. Stiles is terrified these men – these monsters – are going to take his not-yet-born child away from him and that – that makes everything else irrelevant. So underneath the overwhelming, suffocating, terrible, choking fear and horror and devastation is a determination and willpower Stiles has never had before. 

And then they hear a howl – it’s louder and more terrifying than any of the others and it is Scott. Stiles almost wants to smile but he doesn’t have the time to do anything that stupid because he hears Liam whimper and sees the boy being thrown into a nearby tree, his body slumping to the ground weakened. 

,,Liam!” Stiles shouts panicked and without thinking – because apparently Stiles is not a big fan of thinking things through – he moves out of the jeep as if to walk to Liam for help and support. 

A lot of things happen at once then: 

Isaac manages to throw – yes, throw – Leonard into the other pack member and send them both flying a few feet away from Stiles. 

Liam scrambles to his feet. 

Scott, Derek, Allison as well as the twins all shows up, running towards them. 

Stiles feels this… this overwhelming thing, feeling, whatever it is crawling through his system. 

And then the rest of Leonard’s pack – the remaining members – show up. 

Before Stiles has time to process any of this, Isaac is by his side, grabbing him with both hands, looking at him with a mixture of rage and fear in his yellow eyes. 

,,Stiles!” he growls out through his fangs. 

They hear a loud pained howl and they both turn to where Scott and the rest have caught up to them on the otherwise empty road. They see a girl – Susan, Stiles assumes – being thrown into the tree by the twins. Allison is aiming at two men – werewolves – approaching her, but before she has a change to shoot at them, Scott attacks from behind. 

All the while Derek is headed towards Stiles at an alarming speed. 

Meanwhile the human is – well, he isn’t sure what he is. He is still very, very tormented and now even more so than before, he hadn’t even thought that possible but he is. 

He wants to throw up, he is that frightened, but he also wants to punch the other pack, shoot them, kill them rip their fucking throats out. And in-between those two states he is feeling something he hasn’t felt before. It is terrible because it isn’t. He feels like he belongs, he feels like his heart is beating at a normal rate, he feels the whole fucking world could stop and he wouldn’t give a shit. And he knows why…

Because he’s found the father to his unborn child. 

He turns his head and looks at the two men scrambling to their feet. Leonard flashes his red eyes and the man next to him shows his teeth. 

Stiles looks at them – at him, at the one next to Leonard – and he can’t takes his eyes off him. He has to, he has to keep staring, maybe if he just…

,,Stiles!” 

,,Derek!” Isaac exclaims. 

Stiles doesn’t look at either of them, he stares at the wolf man a few meters ahead of him, and as he looks into his eyes he suddenly knows: 

,,It’s Thomas,” he whispered because he knows they can hear him – all of them can. The wolf with whom he has eyes locked with, straightens his back at the mention of his name. 

Stiles wants to cry. ,,It’s Thomas, he is the one.” 

Isaac is oblivious to what is going on and Stiles expects Derek to be so too but the man looks at Thomas next to his brother Leonard and he furrows his eyebrows and growls low in his throat. ,,Deaton called Scott,” the man says without looking away from Thomas.

,,Oh,” Sties says, still not looking at them. ,,We have to kill him.”

It’s that easy – kill Thomas and get a few seconds where the other pack is completely disorientated and weak. Then proceed to kill the rest of them. It’s terrifyingly simple so of course something will go wrong. 

,,I know,” Derek informs him. He moves so he stands in front of Stiles and Isaac follows suit. Liam emerges from behind them, taking position next to Derek, showing his fangs and claws. Stiles' heart is hammering so fucking hard in his chest it’s bound to explode at some point soon. He places both his hands on his stomach, feeling his fingers tremble. 

Leonard throws his head back, baring his throat and laughs heartedly. ,,You think I’ll let you kill my baby brother?” he asks and smirks. ,,I thought we’d trained you guys better.” 

,,Fuck you,” Isaac growls and spits. 

,,I could’ve,” Leonard says nonchalant, ,,but we were a bit busy with your human friend there.”

Stiles feels like he’s about to throw up. Liam puts a supporting hand on his arm and he’s is fucking grateful because without it he’d probably stacker and fall to his knees, he is so weak and yet – yet there’s this newfound determination and rage – pure, white rage – burning like a thousand suns inside of him, setting his blood on fire. 

,,It’s mine then,” Thomas says and inhales deeply. And then he smiles fondly and looks at Stiles with something that can almost be categorized as love in his eyes. 

,,No,” Stiles spits before he’s even aware that he’s talking, ,,it’s mine.”

Leonard laughs again and this time Thomas joins him. ,,Is that so?” 

,,Yes,” Stiles grits out and straightens his back, holding himself up, strong and powerful and yet so close to breaking all together. 

Derek roars like only a former alpha can do it and Isaac and Liam chimes in and before Stiles knows what’s happening Derek is attacking and Isaac is as well. Liam pushes Stiles towards the jeep, away from the fighting and Stiles doesn’t try to argue. When he looks over Liam’s shoulder he sees Scott flee from the other fight to join Derek and Isaac. 

It’s all happening too fast for his human eyes to really follow. Liam is hovering over him, his back to the others, protecting Stiles like a shield. Stiles is clutching onto Liam’s shirt desperately, trying to breathe through thick, hot panic filling his lungs. 

He doesn’t want to close his eyes but he doesn’t want to see the fight either. He squeezes his eyes shut until he hears a pained howl and he opens his eyes to see Isaac land hard on the ground, not moving to get up again. 

,,Isaac,” Stiles whimpers. 

,,No, you have to stay here,” Liam growls and presses Stiles against the jeep’s door. 

Stiles gasps for air and feels his back hit the car door hard. He is still grabbing onto Liam’s shirt while looking over the younger boy’s broad shoulder. 

Isaac isn’t moving and neither Derek nor Scott has time to tend to him. Leonard is a good fighter and he is almost fighting both of them alone, Thomas only joining in occasionally. 

If they could just get him alone…

In the other end Ethan and Aiden are a good match for Susan and the two other’s and with Allison there the game is definitely on their side of the field. The arrows fly in the air, hitting their target every time, sending the other pack members howling. 

,,Isaac,” Stiles whispers and swallows hard. 

,,There’s nothing – “ Liam begins but his voice is cut off by Derek whimpering and falling to his knees. Leonard is hovering over him like a shadow, ready to strike when Scott attacks. Thomas attacks Scott from behind then and for a moment everything disappears in a mass of howls and growls and shouts of pain and pure anger. 

The next second Derek is up and standing in front of Isaac to protect him. Stiles can’t help but slide lifelessly down the car, still glancing at the fight with his heart beating so, so painfully hard in his throat. 

Thomas, he sees, gets in a few good hits and sends Scott down on his knees as well. Stiles swallows hard and reaches forward, leaning his forehead against Liam’s strong frame, grabbing the boy like he’s afraid he’s going to faint. 

And then Stiles gets an idea. A terrible, stupid idea. 

He scrambles to his knees and then stands up, still holding on to Liam. 

,,What are you doing?” the boy urges and also grabs Stiles' shoulder as if to hold him fast. Stiles has caught Thomas’ eyes again and he can’t look away. 

,,Improvising,” he hisses and takes a step back from the werewolf. 

,,What, no,” Liam says and doesn’t let go of the boy. 

Stiles doesn’t care, he just has to keep looking at Thomas, has too keep the other male occupied long enough for someone, anyone, to slay him. 

The thought of Thomas dead makes Stiles whimper. He knows it’s only because of the magical bond through Lou – their child – but it feels real and painful, like someone is threatening to rip out his heart. And he almost – almost –wants to shout for the other man to be careful, almost wants the other man to stay alive… 

Thomas can feel the bond now, too, Stiles is sure of it. He wonders if it beats just as strong and endlessly in his chest as it does in Stiles’ or if it’s different for werewolves. He has no idea; he’s hardly even sure what’s going on at this point. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen, this was never the plan. And yet here they are and Stiles can’t do anything but gentle push Liam to the side. 

,,Stiles…” the boy croaks out weakly. 

,,Please,” Stiles’ begs and steps ahead of him and out of his strong grab. 

,,No,” Liam says but he doesn’t reach out. Maybe he’s mesmerized by the way Thomas and Stiles are looking at each other, not even blinking, just staring with this odd, uncomfortable intensity in their eyes; brown meeting bright yellow. 

When Stiles steps closer to Thomas, Thomas also moves closer to Stiles. It’s like this weird, indescribable literally bond is pulling them closer. It’s the scariest thing Stiles has ever experienced. He looks at this man, this werewolf, and he sees a monster that used him, who raped him, who broke him piece by piece and yet, yet this monster is the one making his heart beat with something that isn’t terror or fear but something else. This man who is the father to the child Stiles carries. 

Stiles has no concept of time for a moment; he isn’t sure where Liam is, if Scott and Derek are still fighting Leonard, if Allison, Aiden and Ethan are keeping up with the others, if Isaac is even breathing, he knows nothing. All he sees are those bright, yellow eyes flashing and they draw him closer. And he is still frightened to death but he’s also intrigued, like something inside of him dares him to continue stepping closer. 

They are too close when it finally happens: 

One second Thomas is standing there, smiling at Stiles, and the next he’s on the ground, gurgling on his own blood. And then Isaac slashes his throat and the light dies in his eyes. 

Just like that. 

And Stiles can’t help but scream ,,NO!” and fall to his knees next to the body. 

Sadness. 

Sorrow. 

Overwhelming devastation. 

He can’t help it – he can’t. 

,,Stiles!” he vaguely hears Liam shout, seconds before he runs to his side. 

Stiles doesn’t care – not about Liam, not about anything. He looks down at Thomas and for the time being all he sees is someone who shouldn’t have been dead. And rationally speaking he knows it’s just the aftermath of the bond being severed and rationally speaking he knows this is good because it means the other pack must feel something similar to what Stiles is feeling, making them weaker, but he can’t for the love of his life see or understand anything else but… 

He is aware of how the fight increase and he knows that Derek and the rest knows what is going on, knows that only have seconds before the pack has restored their strength and rage. 

Seconds is all they got, and seconds is all they need, really. 

If he looks up he’ll see Malia and Kira arriving, he’ll see them join Allison, Ethan and Aiden, he’ll see Malia kill the woman – Susan – he’ll see the twins kill one of the men and Allison and Kira kill the other. 

He can hear someone howling but he doesn’t – doesn’t care whether its Leonard or Scott or Derek. None of that mattesr and he doesn’t understand why it ever mattered, why anything but Thomas every mattered. And now he’s lying there, dead and lifeless, nothing but a white body with fangs and eyes that’ll never glow again. 

,,Stiles,” Isaac, who looks badly injured, whispers as he steps closer to the human, his face and hands covered in blood. Thomas’ blood. 

,,No,” Stiles mumbles, grabbing a hold of Thomas’ shirt, holding onto it with trembling fingers; his entire body shaking. 

,,Stiles,” Liam says again. 

,,No,” Stiles says and squeezes his eyes shut. ,,No, NO!”

And then he feels the tears fall down from the corner of his eyes, and not long after that his entire body is convulsing with sobs, rushing through his body, sending him bending down over Thomas. He buries his face against the fabric of his shirt – this man, this monster – and he cries, he sobs like he’ll never be able to smile again. 

He is lying there, feeling despair run through his veins like fire in his blood, until someone crushes down next to him and gentle puts a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t have to turn to see it is Derek – Stiles is not surprised the other pack is dead, If they'd felt an inch of what he’d felt when Thomas died, he understands why they didn’t put up much of a fight. 

,,Stiles,” Derek whispers. ,,Do you know who this is?”

Stiles wants to laugh but it comes out of a combination of a laugh, a snort and a choking sob. ,,I-I-I’m not s-s-stupid,” he gets out, gritting his teeth and keeps his eyes closed. He digs his fingers into the fabric of the shirt, leans forward even further. 

,,He hurt you,” Derek informs him. 

,,I know!” Stiles screams and sobs again. ,,I know what he did! I-I-I know who he is."

,,Stiles – “

,,Shut up,” he begs desperately, whimpering like a kicked dog. ,,Shut up.” 

,,Stiles – “

,,SHUT UP!” he yells and then he lets go completely and turns into a bawling mess; he can’t help it. He can’t explain what is happening – he knows what Thomas did to him and god knows he hates this man, this monster, with an intensity Stiles has never felt inside of him before, but that doesn’t change the cold hearted fact that something, a bond, had grown between them and now – now, just like that, just when Stiles realized what it was, it’s over and he is, rationally speaking, not sad that either Leonard or Thomas or anyone else is dead – he’s sad that he feels broken, he is sad that, right now, it feels like nothing will ever be alright again. 

There is silence around him for a long time or maybe he just can’t hear the pack over his own crying. After what feels like hours but is probably more minutes, he leans back just a bit, takes several deep breathes and says: ,,Take me home,” to no one in particular. 

,,Okay,” Derek answers immediately and gently – so, so gently – he picks the human up and carries him away from the crime scene. 

Stiles has his eyes closed so he doesn’t see Deaton arriving with Peter andChris Argent, doesn’t see the twins and Peter and Chris Argent start to grab the bodies and drag them away from the road. He doesn’t see Perrish arrive and talk to Chris – he doesn’t see the man nod, look at Stiles with sadness in his eyes, and then help the pack. He sees none of it. 

It starts raining; out of nowhere the sky opens and water starts pouring down over them. And Stiles is still whimpering because he can’t fucking help it, he can’t stop it. 

,,It’s going to be okay,” Derek mumbles and carries the boy all the way home, totally ignoring any car there might be available. 

,,I know,” Stiles lies and tries to calm himself down. 

The Sheriff, Lydia and Melissa stands up when they enter the house. Derek has Stiles in his arm, the boy is still making these horrible, broken sound and behind them comes Scott, Malia, Allison, Kira, and Liam supporting Isaac. They all look tired but also relieved. 

,,What’s wrong with him?” the sheriff practically shouts. 

,,Nothing physically,” Derek assures him. ,,He just need some rest,” he hopes desperately. The sheriff looks torn but then he nods and the three of them disappears upstairs. The rest of the teenagers are silent as they sit around in the living room. Melissa watches them and sighs. 

,,Is he – is it over?” she asks. 

,,Yes,” Scott mumbles, ,,It’s over.”

,,Okay,” she nods. ,,How are you? Is Isaac okay?”

The werewolf, laying on the couch with his eyes closed, smiles. ,,I’ll be fine,” he whispers. 

,,Okay,” Melissa nods again. ,,I’ll make you guys some food, would you want that?” 

,,Yeah,” Allison breathes, ,,that sounds great.”

None of them pretends to only stay temporarily, none of them makes any move to get up, no they just stay there, together. And when Derek comes downstairs he nods like he’s saying ‘it’s going to be alright’ but they can still hear Stiles crying like he’s lost the love of his life. 

Eventually Peter, Chris and the twins as well as Perrish joins them and it’s a miracle they can fit into the living room in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on a totally different note: i got my driver's licence!


	13. Chapter 13

,,This movie is shit,” Stiles declares one late afternoon. Some of the other teenagers currently sitting in his living room turn to glare at him but most of them hardly even pay him any attention. ,,Shit, I tell you,” he continues and considers throwing pillows after them. 

,,Hush,” Isaac demands without looking at him. 

,,I’m going to kill you,” Stiles tells him. 

,,Then who’d be Lou’s godfather?” 

,,You are not Lou’s godfather.”

,,I’m hurt.”

,,Shut up and pick another movie!”

,,You two!” Allison says and send them both looks saying ‘shut up or be shot with arrows’ and despite his overbearing knowledge of how much Allison loves him, Stiles still fears her enough to sigh and give up. He joins the others reluctantly in watching the terrible, terrible movie with the terrible, terrible cliché plot. Thankfully, when the main character almost gets hit by a bus but survives and the female lead runs into the hospital room to declare her eternal love for him, Scott groans loudly and the two of them combined can be pretty fucking powerful so eventually they agree on not watching the undoubtedly sappy ending. 

,,Who are Lou’s godparents anyway?” Liam asks when they discuss over what movie to watch next. 

,,The position is open for anyone who’s willing to grab me some ice cream,” Stiles says dreamily. 

,,Stiles!” Scott exclaims. 

,,Sorry bud, but I’d sell you short for ice cream any day when I’m the size of a whale and more than five months pregnant.”

Scott huffs irritated but gets up nevertheless to get the ice cream and secure his job as awesome godfather. Stiles kisses his forehead as a thank you but Scott just snorts and sits back down on the floor between Lydia and Derek.

,,I love you,” Stiles sings and starts devouring the ice cream with a not unknown intensity. The rest of the pack either return to the movie they’ve yet to decide on or talk to each other about trivial stuff like school, dates, rooms that needs cleaning, tattoos that needs done and so on, and it is, Stiles thinks, about as perfect as everything will ever get. He wants to just freeze right now, stop time and let everything be still at this very moment. He looks around at these people, people who loves him, who’s saved his life, who stayed with him through all his nightmares and heats and everything, these people who are still here, still mocking each other, bantering back and forth, laughing, crying out in pain when someone punches an arm a little too rough or fall asleep with their heads on the couch. He loves these people and he doesn’t want anything to ever change, he wants thins to be as perfect as they are at this very moment. 

And for a long while they are. 

The following week he spends watching movies, hanging out with Scott, Liam, Derek or Isaac also while watching movies, doing school work or google-ing baby-stuff that probably makes him more paranoid than everything else. 

Derek’s done some research of his own and he tells Stiles about two other males that he knows of that’s also gotten pregnant. One of them miscarried but the other gave birth to a healthy baby girl. The first one is, to say the least, disturbing and has Stiles sleepless for several days. The last one, however, catches his attention and he carries on Derek’s research with the much needed help of Allan Deaton. 

In between writing essays, watching marathon after marathon of perfect TV shows and getting everything ready for Lou with his father, Stiles finds records of ten men, over the last hundred years, who’s gotten pregnant. 

Out of those ten, seven where with alpha werewolves. 

And in six out of those seven cases it was the human who got pregnant. 

In one case the impregnator was a beta. 

In another he was an omega. 

And in the final both males were beta werewolves. 

In three out of the ten pregnancies the two males were mates. 

None of the before mentioned pregnancies were planned but none were abuse or rape. 

In eight out of ten the baby survived. 

In nine out of ten also the pregnant male survived. 

He writes all of this down on a piece of paper and tapes onto his wall so he can look at it every day. It’s a reminder that he’s not alone. His father has tried talking him into taking it down, thinks the statistics aren’t all too positive, but Stiles wants the cold harsh facts even if they give him tears of fear in his eyes sometimes. 

He is sitting on the couch debating on ordering pizza or begging Derek to come over and make pasta when the door open his father enters followed by Melissa and Scott. He looks up at them and sends them a bright smile. 

,,To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks. 

,,We are making your fat ass dinner,” Scott replies. 

,,Language!” Melissa scolds. 

Stiles smirks and Scott bows his head before sending Stiles an evil glare. 

,,My ass is only fat because I’m carrying a healthy little buddy in here, wolfy.”

,,Please don’t call me wolfy,” Scott mumbles uncomfortable. 

,,We are making you dinner, so you better be grateful, son,” the sheriff tells him. 

,,When you say ‘we’…” 

,,I mean Scott is making dinner while Melissa and I look at baby pictures and wonder how you both grew up too fast and you can sit on the couch and be very pregnant, yes,” the sheriff answers. 

,,Great,” Stiles beams cheerfully but gets up when Scott sends him another evil glare nevertheless. In the end it’s mostly Stiles doing the cooking but he’s more than okay with that – he hates that everyone things him incapable of even moving!

They eat the dinner in the living room. Somehow John is able to find not just baby pictures but also videos showing a very tiny, miniature version of baby Stiles running around naked in the back yard, waving around his fat, little, chubby baby arms and laughing. 

When Scott starts laughing too hard and too loud for Stiles liking Melissa warns the other boy not to feel too secure that similar videos are not to be found with him as the lead character. 

Stiles throws his head and laughs loudly. ,,This is why I love you,” he tells Mrs. McCall. ,,You are allowed to babysit baby Lou when he arrives.”

,,Can I have that on writing?” she laughs. 

,,Oh don’t worry,” the sheriff says dryly, ,,he keeps a list of all the accepted people, another for the one in question and a third – “

,,Titled never, ever to be left alone with my child under any circumstances what so ever,” Stiles chimes in. 

,,He threatened to have me put of the third list yesterday when I didn’t felt like getting him a class of juice,” Scott mumbles. 

,,I was very thirsty, Scotty, it was a moment of weakness, let it go,” Stiles says. 

The sheriff sighs and Melissa joins in before they both start laughing. 

Later that evening when Melissa and Scott have left the house, his father sits down next to him on the couch. Stiles can tell by the way he is sitting and looking at him that there’s something he wants to tell Stiles. 

,,What up?” he asks when his father doesn’t say anything. 

,,I just,” the sheriff begins, ,,want to tell you I’m proud of you.”

Stiles smiles, wide and proud, and gives his father a side-hug before sighing happily. ,,I’m proud of you too, dad,” he assures the sheriff. 

He goes to bed feeling fine – a bit tired, maybe with a headache forming behind his eyes, throbbing painfully, but other than that totally and utterly fine. When he wakes up in the middle of the night, however, he is anything but fine. 

He feels like – he feels like – 

A wave of pain is rolling through his body, building up, greater and greater and then – 

He gasps and buckles over, grabbing his sheet and squeezing his eyes close. 

The pain isn’t too long but it’s fairly intense and different from anything he’s ever felt before and somehow he just knows – he’s read enough articles online about labor and all that – that this is a contraction. Instead of panicking, he tries to breathe in through his nose and exhale slowly through his mouth. 

Just as he’s beginning to relax another wave hits him merciless and this time he has to bite down hard on his lip not to make too much sound. 

This time he doesn’t bother calming down, just scrambles to his feet clutching his stomach and stumbling down the hallway. He opens his door to his father’s room without knocking and finds him snoring, mouth wide open and eyelids fluttering like he’s dreaming. 

,,Dad,” Stiles calls. ,,Dad! Dad!” 

The sheriff jerks awake, sits up straight and stares at his son with big eyes, pupils blown. 

,,What – what’s going – “ he slurs. 

,,I think – “ he begins before he the pain is there again, filling his every fiber with his unbearable feeling. ,,Okay I know,” he breathes, ,,that I’m about to freaking give birth so get up and – “ again his voice is cut off by the waves of pain and this time he has to grab the door frame not to fall. 

The sheriff is impressive; one will have to give him that. 

After a brief moment of panic – that he is totally entitled too, by the way – he collects himself, nods a few times, puts on some clothes and grabs his car keys. 

Stiles doesn’t bother changing into anything, his pajama jeans and normally loose t-shirt will have to do. His father holds onto his arms as they make their way to the car outside. When they reach the end of the stairs they have to stop because Stiles is having another contraction. 

,,C-call Scott,” Stiles chokes out, ,,he’ll know what to – to do.”

His father only nods and follows orders while guiding his son quickly towards the front door. He vaguely listened to his father conversation with Scott. 

,,Stiles is going into labor,” he hears the man says, somewhat sharply. ,,Yes, I’m bloody sure, Scott!” he practically shouts and Stiles finds the time to chuckle subtly. ,,Stiles said you’d know – oh, okay. Yes. Will be there in ten – then wake him! We’ll be there in ten. Thank you.”

,,You can’t be pretty scary sometimes,” Stiles breathes heavily. 

,,I’m the sheriff, son,” his father only answers, before he opens the car door and helps his son in. Stiles leans against the cold window, an arm slung over his huge belly, feeling the contraction forming in his body; slowly, building in from every corner of his body and hitting him hard making him whimper. 

,,Son,” the sheriff whispers and takes Stiles’ hand in his. 

‘I’m fine’ he’s about to say, but changes it to ,,I’ll be fine,” after a second thought. The rest of the all-in-all eight minute drive is silenced expect for Stiles occasionally whimpers and gasps of pain. 

By the time they reach the veterinarian the contractions are coming faster and harder than before. It’s going fast... too fast. 

Deaton awaits them outside, the door to the clinic already open. He has his eyebrows furrowed and he doesn’t look the least bit reassuring, worry painting his features grim.   
Stiles wants to make a witty remark, wants to say something funny or sarcastic but his body isn’t really corroborating with him at this point so he argues against it. 

,,Stiles,” Deaton greats. 

,,Is everything – “

,,Everything is as ready as it is ever going to be,” Deaton tells him and leads the way. Supported by his dad Stiles makes it inside and into a room he’s never been in before. In the middle of said room is a hospital bed surrounded by a number of machines and medical devises Stiles isn’t so sure Deaton is supposed to have in the first place – not that he complaints, far from. 

,,Okay, just lay down,” Deaton explains and helps Stiles onto the bed, again with the help from the sheriff. ,,Scott, Derek and Isaac as well as Melissa are on their way.” 

,,Why – “ Stiles begins but the sentence turns into a loud groan and his body flexing in pain. 

,,They are to assist me, Stiles, so we’ll get both you and Lou safely out of here,” Deaton assures him. 

,,Okay,” Stiles breathes, his eyes watering from the pain. He swallows hard, nods and lets his head fall back down on the pillow behind him. His father is clutching his hand desperately, so hard it almost hurts. Stiles doesn’t give a shit at this point. 

,,It’s going to be a quick but not pain-free birth,” Deaton tells him. ,,The research we’ve gathered has been a great help for me. From what I can tell the average male birth only last about a couple of hours from the first contractions.”

Stiles wants him to stop fucking talking when another wave crashes over him. 

He wants them all to shut the fuck up. 

Scott and company run into the clinic and finds Stiles on the bed, his head twisted in pain. 

,,Shit,” Isaac’s breathes, ,,this is really happening.”

,,Yes, Isaac, this is really happening,” Scott says without looking away from Stiles. Derek is silenced, looking at Stiles with his eyes wide and his mouth half open. Stiles half wants to reach out and grab the other male’s warm, comfortable, strong hand, and half wants to beat them all up with sticks and stones. 

He sighs when the contraction is over and goes back to focusing on his breathing. 

This is not – this is painful, oh fucking god this is – 

The next one is terrible, indescribable and ruthless, absolutely ruthless. 

And he screams; just opens his mouth and screams, loud and clear. 

,,W-what – “ Scott stammers, staring at his best friend twisting and moving in pain, whimpering and crying silently.

,,It’s getting worse already,” Deaton mumbles. ,,Okay we have to go to work – “

Stiles screams again. He screams and he screams and he – 

Screams. 

,,It’s going to be alright,” his father tells him soothingly. ,,You’re going to be alright.”

Stiles swallows hard and keeps his eyes closed. He can hear the pack moving around him but he doesn’t dare look at them. He can hear Melissa’s and Deaton’s voices giving orders and it’s oddly comforting to listen to. There is a moment of almost calmness filling his body before his back arches up like a bow and he screams again. 

,,It’s happening too fast,” he hears Deaton say. ,,We have to – “

Stiles screams again, his entire body filling with nothing but pain and he knows, he just knows, this isn’t how it is supposed to feel, normal pregnancies may be painful but they aren’t this, they aren’t this goddamn… 

He whimpers and turns to his side, burying his face against his father arms weakly, crying like a child. 

,,It’s going to be alright,” the sheriff promises over and over again and Stiles’ only reply is screaming, he can’t stop, he can’t help, he can’t do anything. 

,,We have to cut him open here,” Deaton is instructing, ,,so we have to – “

,,Make it stop,” Stiles cries. 

It’s all happening so fucking fast.

He can’t breathe. 

,,Please,” he begs as he clutches onto anything and anyone, tears making his vision blurry. ,,Make it stop.”

,,We will,” Deaton promises, ,,we just have to – “

Yet another scream, this time followed by Stiles shouting: ,,Get him OUT OF ME!” 

Scott looks at Derek horrified but the older male is just as frightened and taken aback by all of this as the younger wolves. 

One minute there is the aftermath; his body throbbing, his eyes burning, his inside twisting. 

The next there is pain; real, merciless and strong – his stomach trying to split open, his body trying to destroy itself. It is a suicide mission, he thinks. 

He is going to die. 

,,Stiles, please, you have to lay still or else – “

He opens his throat – already soar and burning – and cuts the protests off with his screams. 

He can’t do this. 

He was wrong to ever think he could do this. 

This isn’t right. 

This isn’t how it is supposed to feel. 

He is going to die. 

He can’t breathe – he can’t breathe! 

He can’t fucking breathe and he is going to die. 

,,What is happening to him?” Someone – Allison, what is she doing here? – shouts. 

,,The labor is extremely painful – “ Deaton – maybe, possibly – explains. 

,,Make it stop,” Stiles sobs, throwing his head from side to side, looking like a maniac no doubt. ,,Please, please make it stop.”

,,We will,” Deaton, Derek, Scott, Isaac, his father, Melissa, Allison (?) assures him over and over again but Stiles knows it that moment, lying there, that they can’t fucking promise him anything – they aren’t trying to soothe him, they are trying to soothe each other. 

He is going to die. 

It feels like his body is being split open. 

Strong arms are holding down his arms and legs as he kicks and screams and tries to move. He screams, he begs and he pleads, he promises them everything and anything if just – god if they can just fucking do something before he – before he – 

Then there’s a syringe being forced into his neck and he hardly even notices before his body starts relaxing, slowly, piece by piece. 

Something is happening; he’s drifting away. 

He falls down on the bed – tired, exhausted, filled with pain. 

He looks up – breathing heavily – and sees Melissa holding a scalpel drenched in blood. Is it his blood? It has to be, does that mean they’re cutting Leo out of him now? Is it finally over? Is he going to fall asleep now?

Is he dying? 

That’s his very last thought before darkness rolls in over his body. He is pretty certain someone is calling 911, he also pretty certain someone is holding onto him. 

He can’t decide if the people surrounding him want him to go sleep or stay awake. 

He wants to fight the exhausting, wants to open his eyes and see – Lou, his child, his baby, his – his – HIS! He has to know… Is Lou alive? Is his child alive? Why isn’t anyone telling him? Is he still giving birth?

Is he finally dying? 

In the end he decides on not deciding and when the darkness really overpowers him it doesn’t matter because he can’t fight it anyway. 

He slips away again, just like he did almost six months ago. 

He slips far, far away…


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last one!

He hears a loud, heartedly cry from the crib and he rolls over to his side and stares at it for a moment, his eyes burning with sleep and his muscles begging him to stay in the bed. 

He neither can’t nor won’t. 

He drags himself out of bed and takes the one step there is to Lou’s crib. He reaches down and picks up the child – the boy – and holds him in his arms, rocking back and forth, trying to calm the child. 

,,It’s okay,” he whispers as he sits down on the edge of the bed. ,,Hush, Lou, it’s okay.”

The baby’s cries turns into a weak whimper and then he falls asleep in his father’s arm. 

Stiles doesn’t move right away but allows himself another minute or two where he can just look at the little bundle, his son, sleeping in his arms. 

He wonders how he ever got this lucky. 

He wonders if it is possibly to love someone so much as he loves his son. 

The child is sleeping with his mouth slightly open and his fists clenching and unclenching and Stiles smiles and tilts his head. 

This is his son.

This is his child. 

And god he could have never asked for anything else in life. 

 

18 months later: 

,,Stop harassing my off-spring, Lahey,” Stiles tells the werewolf as he hits him with the spoon. 

,,I’m doing no such thing!” Isaac answers. Stiles snorts and waves the other male away so he can feed his son. 

Lou is sitting in his high chair, porridge around his big, grinning mouth. Stiles sighs at the sight but can’t help but smile and chuckle as he leans in and try to clean off the beaming toddler. 

,,Da!” Loud exclaims happily. ,,Da! Da!”

,,Yes, yes,” Stiles says. ,,Your daddy loves you very much, but you have to – “

,,Da! Da! Da!” Lou practically shouts. 

Stiles gives up, lets go off the spoon and picks up his son. ,,You want to go play with uncle Liam and uncle Isaac?” he asks the child. 

,,Da!” he just keeps repeating as he bounces up and down in his father’s strong embrace. And Stiles laughs because sometimes he gets like ridiculously happy looking at his son. 

He finds Isaac, Liam and Derek in the back garden. They all look up when he turns around the corner of the house and smiles brightly when they see Lou boucing in his him arms. Stiles sits down on his knees and places the child on the grass in front of him. Immediately the boy is crawling towards the wolves, yelling ,,da, da, da’’ like a mantra over and over again. 

 

6 months later: 

,,Me want an pony,” Lou tells him one Saturday morning when they are sitting in the pack house. 

,,Aha,” Stiles says and pours another large cup of coffee for himself and Derek. ,,And when do you want that, monkey?” 

,,Now,” Lou proudly continues. 

Derek laughs and Stiles looks at him. The other male is laughing now, it a thing he actually does, and he turns out to have a nice, honest laugh that Stiles is addicted to approximately 0.2 after he hears it the for the first time. 

,,Don’t you dare,” Stiles mutters as he send the beaming adult a quick glance. 

Derek smirks but looks at Lou. ,,Why do you want a pony, Lou-bou?” he asks him. 

Lou’s already impossibly large eyes grow even larger. ,,Its a smaller hoarse,” he says like that is all the explanation one could possible need. 

Derek nods seriously like he couldn’t agree more and Stiles kicks him under the table just to make sure the beta won’t attempt something stupid – like promising a toddler a pony. 

Derek has thing annoying habit where he adores Lou and gives him everything he wants. 

Lou doesn’t find it annoying. 

And Derek isn’t really the only one; it’s a trade mark at this point. Stiles rolls his eyes and goes back to listening to his son rambling, every now and again glancing at the other man who seems widely interested in the nonsense Lou is saying. 

Stiles is nineteen years old, he is going to the city collage of Chicago just outside of Beacon Hills with Scott and Isaac. Even if Stiles had wanted to go somewhere else he didn’t have the grades any more – having a child didn’t leave much room for homework. 

Stiles is a year behind Isaac and Scott but he doesn't mind. At first he hadn’t even planned on going; with Lou and the money problems it just wasn’t worth it, he thought, but then Derek came along and promised they’d figure something out. And they did. 

Derek bought this great big house just outside of Beacon Hills, very, very close to college for Isaac, Scott and Stiles to live in. With himself as well of course. And Cora too. 

Allison and Kira is attending a college together not too far away but Lydia has to fly when she wants to come back home. It is… difficult, sometimes, but they make everything work.

Aiden and Ethan has a tattoo shop not too far from the college Lydia and Danny attends and Liam is still very much in High School – though he already has plans to move in with Derek and company once he is through. 

Malia is currently on a road trip around Europe where she also plans on visiting Jackson for god knows what reasons and bring him back along with her. Stiles has told it is crazy but also knows you can’t argue with a Hale. He gave her a farewell hug when she left and told her that when Jackson murdered her, he wanted her Harry Potter poster. 

For Lou, obviously. 

Obviously. 

And sometimes Stiles wakes up in the middle of the night, gasping for air and looks around and realizes – realizes that this is his life; he has a son, a family, a pack and everything is alright. 

The sheriff can afford to pay half of what it costs sending his son to college and Derek pays the other half. Stiles has tried to tell them not to but they really are his only option to be fair. 

Sometimes Stiles crawls into Derek bed, carrying Lou with him, and then all three of them falls asleep together. Other nights Stiles wakes up and finds Derek snoring lightly next to him in his and Lou’s bedroom. 

 

1 year later: 

There is a child running around the house, screaming about presents and no one seems the least bit bothered about it and Stiles wonders – like he has so many countless times – when this became his life. 

,,Lou,” he calls when the child almost knocks over a present lined against the far wall. ,,Lou-bou, slow down… Lucas Dawid Stilinski stop running or I’ll have to – oh, don’t look at me like that,” he snarls irritated when he finds several pairs of angry eyes glooming towards him. He rolls his head and grabs his son as he runs by him next time. 

,,Daddy,” the son exclaims and starts moving. 

,,No more running,” Stiles tells him and kisses his temples carefully. 

,,But dada – “ 

,,No running and you’ll get a present before you go to sleep,” Stiles whispers although half of the guests can hear him. 

Lou stills in his father’s arm and turns to look at him with his very big, serious eyes the color of a dark-blue sky. ,,Really?” he whispers back. 

Stiles nods and the eyes grow bigger yet. ,,Deal, buddy?”

,,Deal,” Lou promises as he nods. Stiles sets him down and the boy almost – almost – starts running of but catches himself and instead strides towards his aunts and uncles. 

Stiles can see Thomas in Lou; he can see him in his eyebrows, always furrowed and he can see him in his impossibly big dark-blue eyes. 

But he can also see much of himself; Lou has his brown hair and his confident mouth. He has his creamy skin color and his nose – the nose Stiles inherited from his mother. 

He sees both good and bad in his son and he loves them both. He loves him so much it threatens to burst him open. 

Stiles feels an arm wrap gently around his waist to pull him closer. He sighs dramatically and leans his head against Derek’s broad shoulder.

,,How ‘m I supposed to teach this kid anything when everyone keeps spoiling him?” he groans irritated when Allison and Isaac starts mock-chasing a giggling Lou around the living room, almost tripping over a few presents as they do. 

Derek chuckles and kisses his hair. ,,You’re doing excellent,” he tells him soothingly. 

,,I know I am,” Stiles tells him, though that isn’t exactly true. Half the time he’s terrified he is doing something wrong, that he is going to ruin this perfect little human with his big, blue, curious eyes. Sometimes the fear gets so big it is starts threatening to choke him and makes it hard for him to breathe. Those nights he’ll crawl into Derek bed just across the hall and burry his face against his warm, smooth skin. Derek will kiss him on the forehead, on his cheeks, on his mouth and he won’t stop until Stiles can breathe properly again. Other times Derek will come into Stiles and Lou’s room instead, like he has done for an entire year now, and he’ll lie down next to Stiles. He’ll never touch him unless Stiles invites him to do so by touching him first. There’re still too many memories and too much pain that’s living inside of Stiles to ever fully let go off. 

Derek snorts and kisses his temples again, both of them laughing when Liam trips over Isaac in his attempt to catch a running Lou. 

 

2 years: 

He is grinning like a bloody idiot when he steps down from the stage and moves towards his family. The pack with all their girl – or boyfriends are cheering on him, his father is smiling so bright it must hurt, Melissa looks so goddamn proud and Derek tilts his head and there is love in his gaze. 

,,Daddy!” Lou sings as he runs towards the boy-who-is-no-longer-a-boy. 

,,Hey, bud,” Stiles says and picks him up. 

,,Grandpa said you gratituded… gradated… radiated… graduated.”

Stiles’ smile grows impossible brighter than it was five minutes ago when he got his diploma. ,,I did,” he tells his son and leans down to kiss him on his nose. He isn’t too big for that yet, thankfully. 

,,Uncle Li sayses he wishes it is him,” Lou continues happily. 

Stiles laughs and looks at Liam, standing next to Malia, and the werewolf laughs tenderly and nods. ,,I’m sure he does, he wishes he was this awesome,” he says. 

,,Hey!” Liam shouts and Stiles laughs louder, Lou joining in. 

 

16 months later: 

He stares at his son… and he just keeps staring. 

Because he is, well, different to say the least. 

He has fangs. Real life, long, sharp fangs and big, bright, yellow eyes. 

Lou looks just as surprised as Stiles. 

And they stare at one another for a long while. 

One is six and the other is twenty-three but they are equally – 

Well, not confused or surprised, they both knew this would eventually happen, but they are – 

Not prepared. 

,,It hurts,” Lou whimpers. He reaches up and touches his own fangs carefully, wincing slightly under the touch. 

Stiles swallows hard and opens his arm for his son to crawl into. ,,I know it does, baby,” he lies, ,,but it will be better.”

,,How do you know?” the boy cries. 

It breaks Stiles’ heart to see him like this. 

,,Well, just look at your uncle Derek! Or Uncle Scott or Uncle Isaac or your Uncle Liam or aunt Cora– “

,,But it hurts,” Lou interrupts. 

,,I know,” Stiles whispers and rock their bodies back and forth, ,,I know, baby, I know.”

 

6 months later: 

,,What am I supposed to tell him?” 

The pack looks at him but he sees no answers in their eyes and he groans desperately and sits down on the couch, burying his face in his hands, begging himself to keep down the sobs. 

,,I have to tell him something,” he murmurs into his own palms. ,,He asked why he had no mother and I couldn’t tell him it was because – “ His voice breaks and he can feel tears stinging his eyes. 

,,Hey,” he hears Isaac say immediately after and a few seconds later there are several hands gentle touching him, rubbing circles onto his back comfortingly. 

,,We’ll figure it out,” Scott promises, ,,like we always do.”

 

2 years later:

,,I hate you!” 

,,Well, nothing I can do about that – “

,,I hate you!” 

,,Lucas Dawid Stilinski – “

,,No!” the eight-year-old shouts angrily and runs upstairs in protest. 

,,Stay up there!” Stiles shouts back. ,,You are grounded!”

,,I hate you!” is the only reply he gets. 

Stiles sighs and sits down at the table with a cup of now-cold coffee. He groans at the bitter taste and throws his head back desperately. 

He can sit there and think of a solution to the problem his son and him are arguing over (,,we are not going to Disney Land – “ ,,But Simon is going! And he said – he said that his father always takes him whenever he wants, dad!” ,,Well, if Simon threw himself off a cliff would – “ ,,Dad, please!”) or pretend the words doesn’t hurt as much as they do and find something to distract himself with. 

Five minutes later he is grabbing the foto-album a ten seconds later he is starring as picture after picture of Lou, fondly. 

God, Stiles can’t believe it is his son turning nine in less than six months. 

God, that means that he’s – fuck, he’s turning twenty-six. 

He groans. 

,,Daddy?”

He turns around to see his son standing by the end of the stairs, looking at his father with those characteristic eyes. 

,,Yes, pumpkin?” Stiles says because he can tell his son is not about to shout or yell or throw a tantrum. 

,,I’m sorry,” he whispers and looks down. 

Stiles inhales sharply, looking at his boy; wild brown hair, pale skin and moles, broader shoulders than normally and long limps that doesn’t seem to fit him right. 

He is perfect. 

,,Come here,” Stiles says and pushes away from the table. Lou runs to his father and climbs onto his lap, wrapping his thin but strong arms around his father’s frame. Stiles leans his cheek against his son's hair and closes his eyes. 

,,Daddy,” Lou mumbles after a few minutes of comfortable silence. 

,,Hm?”

,,Can we really not ever go to Disney Land?”

Stiles has to swallow not to laugh. ,,Well,” he says and kisses his son on his forehead, ,,I was thinking we could go on your next birthday, would you want that, pumpkin?”

,,Really?” Lou beams and looks at his father, eyes flashing yellow with excitement briefly. 

,,Really, really,” Stiles answers, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

,,Can we bring Uncle D?”

,,Derek would be offended if we didn’t bring him, Lou-bou.”

,,And Uncle Isaac and Aunt Ally and Uncle Li and Grandpa and mama Melissa and Aunty Lydia and Uncle Scott and Uncle Danny and aunt Kira and uncle Jackson – “

,,Well, “ Stiles interrupts the rambling child, ,,I’m sure they’ll all be glad to go.”

,,Can Toby and Zack come too?”

,,Why wouldn’t we bring your cousins, pumpkin?”

,,I thought maybe they’re too small.”

,,They are two and three, that’s old enough to go to Disney Land,” Stiles promises. ,,But,” he continues, ,,we’ll have to wait and see with aunt Kira. You know, with her being pregnant and everything.”

Lou furrows his eyebrows and nods very seriously. Then he nozzles closer to Stiles and hides his face against his collarbone. 

,,Dad?” he asks carefully after a while. ,,Does it hurt giving birth?”

The question startles Stiles to say the least and his eyes widen in surprise. Lou leans back to look at his father and when he sees the worry that is visibly in the brown pupils he quickly continues: ,,I know it’s ‘possed to be a secret that you had me, daddy. Just like the werewolves and the banshees and aunt Allison and her dad and everything, it’s just, I was wondering, because…” 

He looks down, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. 

,,Just because what, buddy?” Stiles asks gently. 

,,Well, Simon said his mother had screamed when she’d had Simon’s sister, Bella, and Mrs. Jackson said it really hurts and – “ He inhales suddenly, looking at his father with wide eyes. ,,Does it hurt, daddy?”

Stiles doesn’t know what he’s supposed to answer to such a question. 

But he hardly ever does. 

Lucas is constantly demanding answers from him that Stiles isn’t sure he can or should provide him with and sometimes he is certain that he is screwing this child up mentally. 

But then Lucas helps his cousins when they’re crying or tells them stories before they go to bed or he’ll help Simon when he gets bullied on or tell the older kids to stop hurting his friends and then – then Stiles isn’t too worried that maybe he is still just a child himself or that maybe he is just fumbling in darkness. 

He isn’t alone, at least. 

He has his pack, his family, Derek, Scott, everyone. 

So he does the thing he always does; he goes with his guts and tells his son – still wide eyes and curious – the truth: 

,,It hurts but it is worth it – it is really, really worth it, pumpkin,” and when he kisses Lou on his nose the boy only looks mildly irritated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! 
> 
> And for all of you leaving kudos or commenting: I love you, I really, really do!!


End file.
